a 


OF  THE 


WITH  THE 


STORY  OF  MIKE  FINK 


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•A  TALE  OE 


RIVER  LIFE 


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BANYARD’S  PANORAMA 


OF  THE 


PAINTED  ON 


THREE  MILES  OF  CANVAS, 

EXHIBITING  A  VIEW  OF  COUNTRY 

1200  MILES  IN  LENGTH, 

EXTENDING  FROM  THE 


Moulli  of  the  Missouri  River  to  the  City  of  New  Orleans, 

BEING  BY  FAR 

<Pl)c  Cargcst  picture 

EVER  EXECUTED  BY  MAN. 


BOSTON : 

JOHN  PUTNAM,  PRINT  E  R, 

No.  81  Cornhill. 

1847, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
Getty  Research  Institute 


https://archive.org/details/descriptionofban00banv_2 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  drawings  of  the  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi  were  com¬ 
menced  in  the  spring  of  1840,  and  the  first  sketch  was  made  just 
before  the  artist  became  of  age.  Had  he  been  aware,  when  he 
commenced  the  undertaking,  of  the  vast  amount  of  labor  it  re¬ 
quired,  he  would  have  shrunk  from  the  task  in  dismay;  but  having 
commenced  the  work  he  was  determined  to  proceed,  being  spur¬ 
red  on  to  its  completion,  perhaps,  by  the  doubts  of  some  of  his 
friends  to  whom  he  communicated  his  project,  as  to  its  practica¬ 
bility,  and  by  the  assertions  of  some  foreign  writers,  that  “  Amer¬ 
ica  had  no  artists  commensurate  with  the  grandeur  and  extent  of 
her  scenery.”  He  trusts  now,  by  the  completion  of  his  design, 
his  humble  efforts  will  prove,  as  far  as  the  extent  is  concerned, 
the  falsity  of  this  foreign  vituperation.  The  artist  will  here  hon¬ 
estly  acknowledge,  that  the  idea  of  gain  never  entered  his  mind 
when  he  commenced  the  undertaking,  but  that  he  Avas  actuated 
by  a  patriotic  and  honorable  ambition,  that  America  should  pro¬ 
duce  the  largest  painting  in  the  world. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  he  encountered,  Avas  the  pre¬ 
paratory  labor  he  had  to  undergo  in  making  the  necessary  draAV- 
ings.  For  this  purpose  he  had  to  travel  thousands  of  miles  alone 
in  an  open  skiff,  crossing  and  recrossing  the  rapid  stream,  in 
many  places  over  two  miles  in  breadth,  to  select  proper  points  of 
sights  from  which  to  take  his  sketch;  his  hands  became  hardened 
Avith  constantly  plying  the  oar,  and  his  skin  as  taAvney  as  an  In¬ 
dian’s,  from  exposure  to  the  rays  of  the  sun  and  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  Aveather.  He  would  be  Aveeks  together  Avithout  speaking 
to  a  human  being,  having  no  other  company  than  his  rifle,  which 


4 


furnished  him  with  his  meat  from  the  game  of  the  woods  or  the 
fowls  of  the  river.  When  the  sun  began  to  sink  behind  the  lofty 
bluffs  and  evening  to  approach,  he  would  select  some  secluded 
sandy  cove,  overshadowed  by  the  lofty  cotton  wood,  draw  out  his 
skiff  from  the  water,  and  repair  to  the  woods  to  hunt  his  supper. 
Having  killed  his  game  he  would  return,  dress,  cook,  and  from 
some  fallen  log  would  eat  it  with  his  biscuit,  with  no  other  beve¬ 
rage  than  the  wholesome  water  of  the  noble  river  that  glided  by 
him.  Having  finished  his  lonely  meal,  he  would  roll  himself  in 
his  blanket,  creep  under  his  frail  skiff,  which  he  turned  over  to 
shield  him  from  the  night  dews,  and  with  his  portfolio  of  drawings 
for  his  pillow,  and  the  sand  of  the  bar  for  his  bed,  would  sleep 
soundly  till  the  morning  ;  when  he  would  arise  from  his  lowly 
couch,  eat  his  breakfast  before  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun  had  dis¬ 
persed  the  humid  mist  from  the  surface  of  the  river, — then  would 
start  fresh  to  his  task  again.  In  this  way  he  spent  over  four  hun¬ 
dred  days,  making  the  preparatory  drawings.  When  these  were 
completed  he  erected  a  building  at  Louisville,  Kentucky,  to  trans¬ 
fer  his  drawings  to  the  canvas.  His  object  in  painting  his  picture 
in  the  West  was  to  exhibit  it  to,  and  procure  testimonials  of 
its  correctness  from,  those  who  were  best  calculated  to  judge  of 
its  fidelity, — the  practical  river  men;  and  he  has  procured  the 
names  of  nearly  all  the  principal  captains  and  pilots  navigating 
the  Mississippi,  freely  testifying  to  the  correctness  of  his  painting. 
As  to  its  artistical  merit,  he  will  leave  that  for  the  public  to  judge. 


JOHN  BANVARD. 


MISSISSIPPI  RIVER. 


The  Mississippi  commences  in  many  branches,*  that  rise,  for 
the  most  part,  in  wild  rice  lakes;  but  it  traverses  no  great  dis¬ 
tance,  before  it  has  become  a  broad  stream.  Sometimes  in  its 
beginnings  it  moves,  a  wide  expanse  of  waters,  with  a  current 
scarcely  perceptible,  along  a  marshy  bed.  At  others,  its  fishes 
are  seen  darting  over  a  white  sand,  in  waters  almost  as  transpa¬ 
rent  as  air.  At  other  times,  it  is  compressed  to  a  narrow  and 
rapid  current  between  ancient  and  hoary  lime  stone  bluffs.  Hav¬ 
ing  acquired  in  a  length  of  course,  following  its  meanders,  of 
three  hundred  miles,  a  width  of  half  a  mile,  and  having  formed  its 
distinctive  character,  it  precipitates  its  waters  down  the  falls  of 
St.  Anthony.  Thence  it  glides,  alternately  through  beautiful 
meadows  and  deep  forests,  swelling  in  its  advancing  march  with 
the  tributes  of  an  hundred  streams.  In  its  progress  it  receives  a 
tributary,  which  of  itself  has  a  course  of  more  than  a  thousand 
leagues.  Thence  it  rolls  its  accumulated,  turbid  and  sweeping 
mass  of  waters  through  continued  forests,  only  broken  here  and 
there  by  the  axe,  in  lonely  grandeur  to  the  sea.  No  thinking 
mind  can  contemplate  this  mighty  and  resistless  wave,  sweeping 
its  proud  course  from  point  to  point,  curving  round  its  bends 
through  the  dark  forests,  without  a  feeling  of  sublimity.  The 
hundred  shores,  laved  by  its  waters;  the  long  course  of  its  tribu¬ 
taries,  some  of  which  are  already  the  abodes  of  cultivation,  and 
others  pursuing  an  immense  course  without  a  solitary  dwelling  of 


*  Flint. 


6 


civilized  man  being  seen  on  its  banks;  the  numerous  tribes  of 
savages  that  now  roam  upon  its  borders;  the  affecting  and  imper¬ 
ishable  traces  of  generations  that  are  gone,  leaving  no  other  me¬ 
morials  of  their  existence,  or  materials  for  their  history,  than  their 
tombs,  that  rise  at  frequent  intervals  along  its  banks;  the  dim, 
but  glorious  anticipations  of  the  future; — these  are  subjects  of 
contemplation  that  cannot  but  associate  themselves  with  the  view 
of  this  river. 

The  Mississippi  runs  but  a  little  distance  from  its  source,  as  we 
have  remarked,  before  it  becomes  a  considerable  stream.  Below 
the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  it  broadens  to  half  a  mile  in  width  ;  and 
is  a  clear,  placid  and  noble  stream,  with  wide  and  fertile  bottoms, 
for  a  long  distance.  A  few  miles  below  the  river  Des  Moines,  is 
a  long  rapid  of  nine  miles,  which,  for  a  considerable  part  of  the 
summer,  is  a  great  impediment  to  the  navigation.  Below  these 
rapids,  the  river  assumes  its  medial  width  and  character  from 
that  point  to  the  entrance  of  the  Missouri.  It  is  a  still  more  beau¬ 
tiful  river  than  the  Ohio,  somewhat  gentler  in  its  current,  a  third 
wider,  with  broad  and  clean  sand  bars,  except  in  time  of  high 
waters,  when  they  are  all  covered.  At  every  little  distance,  there 
are  islands,  sometimes  a  number  of  them  parallel  and  broadening 
the  stream  to  a  great  width.  These  islands  are  many  of  them 
large,  and  have  in  the  summer  season  an  aspect  of  beauty,  as 
they  swell  gently  from  the  clear  stream, — a  vigor  and  grandeur 
of  vegetation,  which  contribute  much  to  the  magnificence  of  the 
river.  The  sand  bars,  in  the  proper  season,  are  the  resort  of 
innumerable  swans,  geese  and  water  fowls.  It  is,  in  general,  a 
full  mile  in  width  from  bank  to  bank.  For  a  considerable  distance 
above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  it  has  more  than  that  width. 
Altogether,  it  has,  from  its  alternate  bluffs  and  prairies,  the  calm¬ 
ness  and  transparency  of  its  waters,  the  size  and  beauty  of  its 
trees,  an  aspect  of  amenity  and  magnificence,  which  we  have  not 
seen  belonging  in  the  same  extent  to  any  other  stream. 

Where  it  receives  the  Missouri,  it  is  a  mile  and  a  half  wide.  • 
The  Missouri  itself  enters  with  a  mouth  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  wide.  The  united  stream  below  has  thence,  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio,  a  medial  width  of  little  more  than  three  quarters  of  a 
mile.  This  mighty  tributary  seems  rather  to  diminish,  than  in¬ 
crease  its  width  ;  but  it  perceptibly  alters  its  depth,  its  mass  of 


7 


waters,  and,  what  is  to  be  regretted,  wholly  changes  its  character. 
It  is  no  longer  the  gentle,  placid  stream,  with  smooth  shores  and 
clean  sand  bars;  but  has  a  furious  and  boiling  current,  a  turbid 
and  dangerous  mass  of  sweeping  waters,  jagged  and  dilapidated 
shores,  and,  wherever  its  waters  have  receded,  deposites  of  mud. 
It  remains  a  sublime  object  of  contemplation.  The  noble  forest 
still  rises  along  its  banks.  But  its  character  of  calm  magnificence, 
that  so  delighted  the  eye  above,  is  seen  no  more. 

The  bosom  of  the  river  is  covered  with  prodigious  boils,  or 
swells,  that  rise  with  a  whirling  motion,  and  a  convex  surface, 
two  or  three  rods  in  diameter,  and  no  inconsiderable  noise,  whirl¬ 
ing  a  boat  perceptibly  from  its  track.  In  its  course,  accidental 
circumstances  shift  the  impetus  of  its  current,  and  propel  it  upon 
the  point  of  an  island,  bend,  or  sand  bar.  In  these  instances,  it 
tears  up  the  island,  removes  the  sand  bars,  and  sweeps  away  the 
tender,  alluvial  soil  of  the  bends,  with  all  their  trees,  and  depos¬ 
ites  the  spoils  in  another  place.  At  the  season  of  high  waters, 
nothing  is  more  familiar  to  the  ear  of  the  people  on  the  river,  than 
the  deep  crash  of  a  land-slip,  in  which  larger  or  smaller  masses  of 
the  soil  on  the  banks,  with  all  the  trees,  are  plunged  into  the 
stream.  Such  is  its  character  from  Missouri  to  the  Balize;  a 
wild,  furious,  whirling  river, — never  navigated  safely,  except  with 
great  caution. 

No  person,  who  descends  this  river  for  the  first  time,  receives 
clear  and  adequate  ideas  of  its  grandeur,  and  the  amount  of  water 
which  it  carries.  If  it  be  in  the  spring,  when  the  river  below  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio  is  generally  over  its  banks,  although  the  sheet 
of  water,  that  is  making  its  way  to  the  gulf,  is,  perhaps,  thirty 
miles  wide,  yet  finding  its  way  through  deep  forests  and  swamps 
that  conceal  all  from  the  eye,  no  expanse  of  water  is  seen,  but  the 
width,  that  is  curved  out  between  the  outline  of  woods  on  either 
bank;  and  it  seldom  exceeds,  and  oftener  falls  short  of  a  mile. 
But  when  he  sees,  in  descending  from  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony, 
that  it  swallows  up  one  river  after  another,  with  mouths,  as  wide 
as  itself,  without  affecting  its  width  at  all ;  when  he  sees  it  receiv¬ 
ing  in  succession  the  mighty  Missouri,  the  broad  Ohio,  St.  Fran¬ 
cis,  White,  Arkansas,  and  Red  rivers,  all  of  them  of  great  depth, 
length  and  volume  of  water;  when  he  sees  this  mighty  river  ab¬ 
sorbing  them  all,  and  retaining  a  volume,  apparently  unchanged, 


8 


— he  begins  to  estimate  rightly  the  increasing  depths  of  current, 
that  must  roll  on  its  deep  channel  to  the  sea.  Carried  out  of  the 
Balize,  and  sailing  with  a  good  breeze  for  hours,  he  sees  nothing 
on  any  side  but  the  white  and  turbid  waters  of  the  Mississippi, 
long  after  he  is  out  of  sight  of  land. 

Touching  the  features  of  the  country  through  which  it  passes, 
from  its  source  to  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  it  moves  alternately 
through  wild  rice  lakes  and  swamps,  by  lime  stone  bluffs  and 
craggy  hills;  occasionally  through  deep  pine  forests,  and  beauti¬ 
ful  prairies;  and  the  tenants  on  its  borders,  are  elk,  buffaloes, 
bears  and  deer,  and  the  savages  that  pursue  them.  In  this  dis¬ 
tance,  there  is  not  a  civilized  inhabitant  on  its  shores,  if  we  ex¬ 
cept  the  establishments  of  Indian  traders,  and  a  garrison  of  the 
United  States.  Buffaloes  are  seldom  seen  below  these  falls.  Its 
alluvions  become  wide,  fertile,  and  for  the  most  part  heavily  tim¬ 
bered.  Like  the  Ohio,  its  bottoms  and  bluffs  generally  alternate. 
Its  broad  and  placid  current  is  often  embarrassed  with  islands, 
which  are  generally  rich  alluvial  lands,  often  containing  from  five 
hundred  to  a  thousand  acres,  and  abounding  with  wild  turkeys  and 
other  small  game.  For  one  hundred  miles  above  the  mouth  of 
the  Missouri,  it  would  be  difficult  for  us  to  convey  an  idea  of  the 
beauty  of  the  prairies,  skirting  this  noble  river.  They  impress 
the  eye,  as  a  perfect  level;  and  are  in  summer  covered  with  a 
luxuriant  growth  of  grass  and  flowers,  without  a  tree  or  bush. 

Above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  to  the  rapids  of  Des  Moines, 
the  medial  width  of  the  bottom  valley,  in  which  the  river  rolls, 
measured  from  bluff  to  bluff,  is  not  far  from  six  miles.  Below  the 
mouth  of  the  Missouri,  to  that  of  the  Ohio,  is  not  far  from  eight 
miles.  The  last  stone  bluffs  of  the  Mississippi  are  seen,  in  de¬ 
scending,  about  thirty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.  Below 
these,  commences  on  the  Mississippi,  as  is  seen  on  the  Ohio  for 
some  distance  above  its  mouth,  the  aspect  of  a  timbered  bottom 
on  either  side,  boundless  to  the  vision.  Below  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio,  the  alluvion  broadens  from  thirty  to  fifty  miles  in  width; 
still  expanding  to  the  Balize,  where  it  is  probably,  three  times 
that  width.  We  express  these  widths  in  terms  of  doubt,  because 
three  fifths  of  the  alluvion,  below  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  is  either 
dead  swamp  of  cypress  forest,  or  stagnant  lakes,  or  creeping 
bayous,  or  impenetrable  cane  brakes,  great  part  of  it  inundated; 


9 


perhaps  traversed  in  a  straight  direction  from  bluff  to  bluff, 
scarcely  once  in  a  year,  and  never  explored,  except  in  cases  of 
urgent  necessity.  The  bluffs,  too,  are  winding,  swelling  in  one 
direction,  and  indented  in  another,  and  at  least  as  serpentine  as 
the  course  of  the  river. 

Between  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  and  St.  Louis,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  river,  the  bluffs  are  generally  near  it,  seldom  diverg¬ 
ing  from  it  more  than  two  miles.  They  are,  for  the  most  part, 
perpendicular  masses  of  lime  stone;  sometimes  shooting  up  into 
towers  and  pinnacles,  presenting,  as  Mr.  Jefferson  well  observed, 
at  a  distance,  the  a'spect  of  the  battlements  and  towers  of  an  an¬ 
cient  city.  Sometimes  the  river  sweeps  the  bases  of  these  per¬ 
pendicular  bluffs,  as  happens  at  the  Cornice  rocks,  and  at  the 
cliffs  above  St.  Genevieve.  They  rise  here,  between  two  and 
three  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  river.  There  are  many 
imposing  spectacles  of  this  sort,  near  the  Western  bank  of  the 
Mississippi,  in  this  distance.  We  may  mention  among  them  that 
gigantic  mass  of  rocks,  forming  a  singular  island  in  the  river, 
called  the  ‘  Grand  Tower,’  and  the  shot  towers  at  Herculaneum. 

From  the  sources  of  the  river  to  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri, 
the  annual  flood  ordinarily  commences  in  March,  and  does  not 
subside  until  the  last  of  May;  and  its  medial  height  is  fifteen  feet. 
At  the  lowest  stages,  four  feet  of  water  may  be  found  from  the 
rapids  of  Des  Moines  to  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri.  Between  that 
point  and  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  there  are  six  feet  in  the  channel 
of  the  shallowest  places  at  low  water;  and  the  annual  inundation 
may  be  estimated  at  twenty-five  feet.  Between  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio  and  the  St.  Francis,  there  are  various  shoal  places,  where 
pilots  are  often  perplexed  to  find  a  sufficient  depth  of  water,  when 
the  river  is  low.  Below  that  point,  there  is  no  difficulty  for  ves¬ 
sels  of  any  draught,  except  to  find  the  right  channel.  Below  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio,  the  medial  flood  is  fifty  feet;  the  highest, 
sixty.  Above  Natchez,  the  flood  begins  to  decline.  At  Baton 
Rouge,  it  seldom  exceeds  thirty  feet;  and  at  New  Orleans, 
twelve.  Some  have  supposed  this  gradual  diminution  of  the  flood 
to  result  from  the  draining  of  the  numerous  effluxes  of  the  river, 
that  convey  away  such  considerable  portions  of  its  waters,  by 
separate  channels  to  the  sea.  To  this  should  be  added,  no  doubt, 
the  check,  which  the  river  at  this  distance  begins  to  feel  from  the 
2 


10 


re-action  of  the  sea,  where  this  mighty  mass  of  descending  waters 
finds  its  level. 

One  of  the  most  striking  peculiarities  of  this  river,  and  of  all  its 
lower  tributaries,  has  not  often  been  a  theme  of  observation,  in 
describing  it.  It  is  the  uniformity  of  its  meanders,  called  in  the 
phrase  of  the  country,  its  ‘  points  and  bends.’  In  many  instances 
these  curves  are  described  with  a  precision,  with  which  they 
would  have  been  marked  off  by  the  sweep  of  a  compass.  The 
river  sweeps  round,  perhaps,  the  half  a  circle,  and  is  precipitated 
from  the  point,  in  a  current  diagonally  across  its  own  channel,  to 
another  curve  of  the  same  regularity  upon  the  opposite  shore. 
In  the  bend  is  the  deepest  channel,  the  heaviest  movement  of 
waters,  and  what  is  called  the  thread  of  the  current.  Between 
this  thread  and  the  shore,  there  are  generally  counter  currents, 
or  eddies;  and  in  the  crumbling  and  tender  alluvial  soil,  the  river 
is  generally  making  inroads  upon  its  banks  on  the  bend  side. 
Opposite  the  bend  there  is  always  a  sand  bar,  matched,  in  the 
convexity  of  its  conformation,  to  the  concavity  of  the  bend.  Here 
it  is,  that  the  appearance  of  the  young  cotton  wood  groves  have 
their  most  striking  aspect.  The  trees  rise  from  the  shore,  show¬ 
ing  first  the  vigorous  saplings  of  the  present  year;  and  then  those 
of  a  date  of  two  and  three  years;  and  trees  rising  in  regular  gra¬ 
dation  to  the  most  ancient  and  lofty  point  of  the  forest.  These 
curves  are  so  regular  on  this,  and  all  the  rivers  of  the  lower 
country,  that  the  boatmen  and  Indians  calculate  distances  by 
them;  and  instead  of  the  number  of  miles  or  leagues,  they  esti¬ 
mate  their  progress  by  the  number  of  bends  they  have  passed. 


THE  PANORAMA. 


MISSOURI  RIVER. 

This  is  the  largest  tributary  of  the  Mississippi  river,  dis¬ 
charging  more  water  into  the  channel  than  the  Upper  Mis¬ 
sissippi  itself:  in  fact,  it  is  the  longer  river  of  the  two.  At 
its  confluence  it  is  about  half  a  mile  wide ;  the  united  stream 
from  this  point  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  has  a  medial  breadth 
of  about  a  mile.  This  mighty  tributary  appears  rather  to 
diminish,  than  to  increase  the  width,  but  it  materially  alters 
the  depth  of  the  channel. 

A  short  distance  above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  stands 
the  town  of  Alton,  situated  at  the  base  of  a  beautiful  bluff, 
which  rolls  in  on  the  river  in  a  graceful  outline  clearly  defin¬ 
ed  against  bright  sky  beyond. 

Immediately  in  the  foreground,  under  the  shade  of  some 
stately  elms,  is  an  encampment  of  Shawnee  Indians ;  the 
warriors  reclining  lazily  upon  the  greensward,  while  their 
squaws  are  preparing  their  rude  repast. 

Below  the  junction  of  the  Missouri  stand  out,  in  fine  relief, 
some  very  beautiful  islands,  clad  in  the  brightest  verdure  ; 
and  further  down,  near  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  stands 

BLOODY  ISLAND. 

The  name  being  given  to  it  from  the  number  of  duels  that 
have  been  fought  within  its  shades. 


12 


ST.  LOUIS. 

St.  Louis  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  first  settled  towns  in 
the  Mississippi  Yalley.  It  was  settled  and  occupied  by  the 
French,  until  the  country  was  purchased  by  the  American 
Government.  It  is,  and  always  has  been,  the  commercial 
capital  of  the  country  now  forming  the  State  of  Missouri. 
Since  the  Americans  begun  to  take  the  lead  in  St.  Louis, 
and  introduced  our  laws  and  enterprise,  a  new  impulse  has 
been  given  to  its  improvement,  commerce,  and  prosperity. 
The  situation  of  the  town  is  very  beautiful.  It  stands  on  a 
kind  of  second  bottom,  that  rises  gently  from  the  river  to  a 
considerable  eminence.  Having  surmounted  this  bank,  an 
extensive  plain  opens  to  view.  In  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
the  town,  this  plain  is  covered  with  bushes  and  shrub  oaks. 
Beyond  is  an  extensive  belt  of  grassy  plain  or  naked  prairie. 
The  timber  for  several  miles  has  been  cut  away  for  fuel. 
The  eye  reposes,  in  the  spring  and  summer  months,  with 
pleasure  upon  this  sweep  of  verdure,  bounded  on  the  verge  of 
the  horizon  with  forests,  and  also  upon  the  level  bottom  and 
noble  forests  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the  river.  The  town  has 
extended  itself  along  the  hill ;  and  some  of  the  best  houses  are 
built  on  that  pleasant  elevation.  The  number  of  the  Ameri¬ 
cans  now  predominates  over  that  of  the  French  :  but  the 
population  is  made  up  of  emigrants  from  all  parts  of  the 
world.  There  is  no  town  in  the  western  country  more  favor¬ 
ably  situated  as  the  seat  of  an  immense  trade.  It  is  nearly 
in  the  centre  of  the  Mississippi  Yalley,  commanding  the  trade 
of  the  Missouri,  the  upper  Mississippi,  and  the  Illinois,  with 
the  vast  and  almost  boundless  country  watered  by  these  gi¬ 
gantic  streams.  The  fur  trade  of  this  immense  country  al¬ 
ready  centres  here.  It  is  the  depot  of  the  numberless  lead 
mines  in  this  region  of  country,  and  all  the  produce  and  mer¬ 
chandize  of  the  country  above  it.  It  has  this  obvious  advan¬ 
tage  over  any  town  on  the  Ohio,  that  steamboats  can  run  be¬ 
tween  here  and  New  Orleans  at  the  lowest  stages  of  water. 
A  great  number  of  steam  boats,  and  river  craft  of  all  descrip¬ 
tions,  bound  to  all  points  of  the  boatable  waters  of  the  Mis- 


13 


sissippi,  are  seen  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  lying  in  the  har¬ 
bor.  Miners,  trappers,  hunters,  adventurers,  emigrants,  and 
people  of  all  character  and  languages,  meet  here,  and  dis¬ 
perse  in  pursuit  of  their  various  objects,  in  every  direction, 
some  even  beyond  the  remotest  points  of  civilization.  Popu¬ 
lation  about  60,000. 

The  first  object  that  arrests  the  eye  of  the  traveller  after 
passing  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  is  the 

UNITED  STATES  ARSENAL. 

It  is  beautifully  situated  on  a  gentle  declivity  immediately 
below  the  city,  at  the  foot  of  “  the  bar.”  A  short  distance 
below  the  arsenal  commence  some  rocky  bluffs,  upon  which 
are  situated,  very  prominently,  several  lofty  shot  towers ; 
they  have  a  very  striking  appearance  when  viewed  from  the 
river.  At  the  end  of  these  bluffs  is  situated  the  small  French 
village  of 

VIDE  POUCH,  (or,  in  English,  Empty  Pocket.) 

In  the  style  of  building,  the  taste  and  simplicity  of  the  old 
French  settlers  are  very  apparent.  The  French  have  a  fash¬ 
ion  of  annually  white-washing  their  houses,  which  produces  a 
pleasing  appearance  when  viewed  from  a  distance.  There 
were  a  number  of  villages  settled  by  the  French  in  this  neigh¬ 
borhood — one  at  Kaskaskia,  one  at  Vincennes,  and  several 
others.  They  were  all  characterized  as  a  people  of  great 
simplicity  and  innocence  of  life — social,  disinterested,  fond  of 
sport  and  gaiety  ;  but  destitute  of  that  enterprise,  energy  of 
character,  and  aspiring  disposition,  which  the  Americans  ex¬ 
hibit.  Their  lands  were  generally  held  and  cultivated  in 
common,  and  their  little  communities  constituted,  as  it  were, 
but  one  great  family. 

A  few  miles  below  Vide  Pouch  stand  the 

JEFFERSON  BARRACKS, 

Pleasantly  situated  on  a  low  hill,  which  rises  gradually 
from  the  river,  presenting  a  very  fine  view  to  the  spectator 


I 


14- 

passing  on  a  boat,  and  calling  up  patriotic  emotions  as  he 
beholds  the  noble  star-spangled  banner  waving,  with  grace¬ 
ful  folds,  in  the  loyal  western  air. 

Below  the  “Barracks”  commences  a  bold  rocky  shore, 
called  the 

PLATEEN  ROCKS, 

Extending  ten  or  twelve  miles  along  the  bank  of  the  river; 
they  have  a  wild,  romantic  appearance,  some  of  them  shoot¬ 
ing  up  into  towers  and  spires,  and,  as  Jefferson  remarks,  not 
unlike  those  of  cities.  In  an  opening  between  two  high  rocks 
is  located  the  town  of 

HERCULANEUM, 

Standing  as  it  were  in  an  immense  natural  amphitheatre. 
The  high  rock  below  the  town  has  a  very  peculiar  castle-like 
appearance.  Further  down  the  river,  we  have  the  “Cornice 
Rocks”  and  the 

BLUFFS  OF  SELMA. 

These  bluffs  have  a  very  striking  and  majestic  appearance, 
varying  from  two  to  four  hundred  feet  in  height  j^some  of 
them  are  beautifully  variegated,  and  resemble  the  facades  of 
mighty  temples, — the  face  of  them  having  uniform  arches, 
and  carved  niches,  almost  as  regular  and  order-like  as  if  they 
were  chiselled  out  by  the  hands  of  man. 

RUSH  ISLAND 

And  Bar,  with  the  wreck  of  the  steamer  West  Wind,  snag¬ 
ged  here  in  June,  1846, — at  the  same  time  the  artist  was 
painting  this  portion  of  the  river.  This  was  a  very  unfortu¬ 
nate  boat,  having  previously  blown  up,  and  killed  a  large 
number  of  persons. 

MOUTH  OF  THE  OHIO. 

This  is  a  very  beautiful  stream,  called  by  the  French,  “  La 
Belle  Rivere.”  Its  banks  are  thickly  settled,  and.  contain 


15 


many  fine  cities.  Mr.  Banvard  has  made  the  drawings  of 
this  river,  and  will  commence  painting  them  so  as  to  have 
the  £i  Panorama  of  the  Ohio  ”  before  he  departs  to  Europe. 
He  will  exhibit  it  in  this  city  when  completed. 

The  spectator  has,  at  the  Mouth  of  the  Ohio,  a  view  of 
three  States  at  one  time.  To  his  right,  he  will  see  the  State  of 
Kentucky  ;  in  the  centre,  between  the  two  rivers,  the  State 
of  Illinois  ;  to  his  left,  the  State  of  Missouri.  On  the  delta  of 
the  two  rivers  stands  the  city  of 

CAIRO, 

Laid  off  by  speculators,  and  fast  going  to  decay. 

N.  B.  The  views  of  the  painting'  above  the  Mouth  of  the 
Ohio  are  all  on  the  western  shore;  below  the  Ohio  they  are  all 
on  the  eastern  shore. 

IRON  BANKS 

And  the  town  of  Columbus  are  the  first  objects  that  strike 
the  eye  of  the  voyager  after  passing  the  Ohio.  They  are  in¬ 
troduced  into  the  picture  by  moonlight,  with  the  magnificent 
steamer  Peytona  wooding ;  one  of  the  largest  and  fastest 
boats  on  the  river,  commanded  by  Capt,.  John  Shallcross,  a 
well  known  and  gentlemanly  commander  of  the  West.  In 
the  distance  can  be  seen  the 

CHALK  BANKS, 

A  high  bluff  of  white  clay,  and  falling  nearly  pependicu- 
larly  to  the  river,  which  washes  its  base. 

MILLS  POINT. 

This  is  not  a  point  of  the  river,  but  a  point  or  spur  of  high 
lands  that  strike  into  the  river,  and  affords  an  excellent  loca¬ 
tion  for  a  town.  In  the  foreground  of  the  view  is  a  diving 
bell  at  work  on  the  wreck  of  a  steamer. 


16 


INDIAN  MOUNDS 

And  Island  number  Twenty-Five.  The  islands  on  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi,  below  the  j^louth  of  the  Ohio,  have  all  been  number¬ 
ed ;  but,  at  present,  the  numbers  are  very  irregular,  owing  to 
the  circumstance  of  many  being  washed  away  by  the  force 
of  the  moving  waters;  the  “  chutes”  of  others  “growing 
up,”  as  it  is  termed,  and  new  ones  continually  forming. 

This  “  growing  up”  of  the  islands  of  the  Mississippi,  is  one 
of  the  most  striking  characteristics  of  this  mighty  river,  and 
one  that  would  not  present  itself  to  the  eye  of  a  voyager  in 
passing  along  the  stream,  unless  the  islands  that  were  grow¬ 
ing  up  were  pointed  out,  and  the  philosophy  explained  to 
him.  Tins  singular  peculiarity  even  escaped  the  observation 
of  Mr.  Flint,  as  he  makes  no  allusion  to  it  in  his  excellent 
description  of  the  Mississippi,  contained  in  his  geography  of 
the  Western  States. 

The  cause  of  this  “  growing  up”  of  the  islands  is  this  : — 
Where  the  current  strikes  diagonally  off  from  a  point  above 
the  head  of  an  island,  the  eddying  waters  produce  a  sand  bar 
under  the  point  at  the  mouth  of  the  “chute,”  or  channel, 
round  the  island.  Upon  this  bar  collects  the  alluvial  soil  of 
the  river,  from  which  spring  the  young  cotton  woods, — and 
being  of  very  rapid  growth,  soon  shoot  up  into  tall  trees 
and  completely  shut  out  the  channel  from  the  view  of  the 
river.  The  “  chutes  ”  behind  the  islands  then  form  lakes. 
Upon  the  waters  of  these  lakes  congregate  all  kind  of  aquatic 
fowls, — swans,  geese,  ducks,  pelicans,  and  the  like.  These 
lakes  are  likewise  the  resort  of  alligators. 


PLUMB  POINT. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  places  to  boatmen,  on  the 
Mississippi,  from  the  frequency  of  the  change  of  channel,  the 
snags,  bars,  and  sawyers.  A  large  number  of  steam,  and 
other  boats,  have  been  lost  here.  It  was  a  short  distance 
from  this  place  where  Murell,  the  notorious  land  pirate  and 
robber,  had  his  encampment. 

When  the  artist  first  descended  the  river,  the  small  flat 


17 


boat  on  which  he  was  travelling  laid  by  here;  and  during 
the  night  the  boat  was  attacked  by  these  robbers,  and  it  was 
only  by  a  desperate  resistance,  during  which  one  of  the  rob¬ 
bers  was  shot,  that  the  boat  was  rescued,  after  cutting  the 
lines  and  leaving  them  on  the  shore.  During  the  conflict, 
Mr.  Banvard  had  a  volley  of  shot  fired  at  him, — the  balls 
whistling  past  and  splashing  in  the  river  by  him  ;  but,  fortu¬ 
nately,  none  of  them  took  effect,  although  several  struck  in 
the  planking  of  the  boat,  only  a  few  inches  from  him. 

FULTON, 

On  the  First  Chickasaw  Bluffs,  an  unimportant  town,  with 
the  town  of 

RANDOLPH, 

On  the  Second  Chickasaw  Bluffs,  seen  in  the  distance;  the 
view  looking  down  the  chute  of  No.  Thirty-Four. 

MEMPHIS. 

This  city  is  beautifully  situated  on  the  Fourth  Chickasaw 
Bluffs,  presenting  a  very  fine  appearance  as  you  descend  the 
river.  It  is  laid  off  in  regular  streets,  and,  under  the  impulse 
of  its  enterprising  citizens,  it  is  fast  rising  in  importance.  It 
is  advantageously  situated  for  trade,  being  a  great  shipping 
point  for  cotton.  The  United  States  Naval  Depot  is  located 
here.  From  the  improvements  already  made  and  in  progress, 
Memphis  bids  fair  to  become  a  very  important  place  of  busi¬ 
ness.  It  is  situated  in  the  sonth-western  corner  of  the  State 
of  Tennessee.  On  the  lower  end  of  the  “  Fourth  Bluffs,”  is 
situated  the  town  of 

FORT  PICKERING, 

A  new  place  laid  off  by  speculators.  It  is  very  handsomely 
situated  opposite  the  head  of 

3 


18 


PRESIDENT’S  ISLAND, 

A  large  and  beautiful  island,  which  divides  the  river  just 
below.  Here  the  voyager  will  begin  to  see  fine  cotton  plan¬ 
tations,  with  the  slaves  working  in  the  cotton  fields.  He  will 
see  the  beautiful  mansions  of  the  planters,  rows  of  “negro 
quarters and  lofty  cypress  trees,  the  pride  of  the  Southern 
forests.  A  little  farther  down  he  passes  the  town  of 

COMMERCE, 

Situated  at  the  head  of  a  deep  bend  of  the  river. 

STACK  ISLAND, 

By  moonlight.  Here  we  have  a  beautiful  view  of  about 
ten  miles  up  the  river, — the  island  in  the  centre  reposing 
quietly  upon  the  surface  of  the  river,  which  is  broken  by  the 
ripples  of  a  passing  steamer, — the  moon  observed  aloft,  shed¬ 
ding  its  mellow  light  and  gilding  the  surrounding  landscape 
with  its  silvery  hues. 

Here  we  have  the  first  view  of  the  Spanish  Moss,  hanging 
in  gloomy  grandeur  from  the  bough  of  the  cypress  trees  ; 
likewise  the  Palmetto,  with  its  broad,  fan-like  leaf,  the  lofty 
Cotton  Wood,  the  sea  grass,  the  impenetrable  canebrake,  and 
all  the  concomitants  of  a  Southern  forest. 

VICKSBURG, 

Situated  on  the  Walnut  Hills.  These  hills  come  in  and 
extend  along  on  the  river  for  about  two  miles.  They  rise 
boldly,  though  gradually,  with  alternate  swells  and  gullies, 
to  the  height  of  nearly  500  feet;  and  present  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  prospects  to  be  met  with  on  the  lower  Mississippi. 
At  the  lower  end,  the  city  of  Vicksburg  is  situated,  on  the 
shelving  declivities  of  the  hills,  and  the  houses  are  scattered 
in  groups  on  the  terraces,  and  present  a  very  striking  view 
as  the  spectator  descends  the  river.  A  few  miles  farther 
down  will  be  seen  the  small  town  of 

WARRENTON, 

The  seat  of  justice  for  Warren  County,  Mississippi. 


19 


PALMYRA  ISLAND, 

With  the  steamer  Uncle  Sam.  This  is  one  of  the  finest 
boats  on  the  river,  commanded  by  clever  officers,  and  makes 
very  regular  trips  from  Louisville  to  New  Orleans.  All  the 
steamboats  introduced  into  the  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi, 
are  correct  likenesses  of  boats  that  are  now  plying  on  those 
waters. 

In  the  foreground  of  this  view  we  have  a  wood  yard,  and 
the  Pecan  tree  tresselled  with  the  Muscadine  vine.  After 
passing  these,  we  come  to  the  city  of 

GRAND  GULF, 

Situated  at  the  base  of  a  bold  and  solitary  bluff.  A  few 
miles  below  this  is  the 

PETITE  GULF 

And  the  town  of  Rodney.  A  few  miles  below  Rodney, 
near  the  point,  stands  a  very  fine  cotton  plantation  belonging 
to  General  Taylor. 

NATCHEZ. 

This  city  is  romantically  situated  on  a  very  high  bluff  of 
the  east  bank  of  the  river,  and  is  much  the  largest  town  in 
the  State  of  Mississippi.  The  river  business  is  transacted  in 
that  part  of  the  city  which  is  called  £<  under  the  hill.”  Great 
numbers  of  boats  are  always  lying  here.  Some  very  respect¬ 
able  merchants  reside  in  this  part  of  the  city.  The  upper- 
town  is  elevated  on  the  summit  of  the  bluff,  300  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  river,  and  commands  a  fine  prospect  of  the 
surrounding  landscape.  The  country  on  the  eastern  bank  is 
waving,  rich,  and  beautiful;  the  eminences  presenting  open 
woods,  covered  with  grape  vines,  and  here  and  there  neat 
country  houses.  This  part  of  the  town  is  quiet ;  the  streets 
broad;  some  of  the  public  buildings  are  handsome;  and  the 
whole  has  the  appearance  of  comfort  and  opulence.  Many 
rich  planters  live  here ;  and  the  society  is  polished  and  re- 


20 


spectable.  It  is  the  principal  town  in  this  region  for  the  ship¬ 
ment  of  cotton,  with  bales  of  which,  at  the  proper  seasons  of 
the  year,  the  streets  are  almost  barricaded;  and  it  is  the- mar¬ 
ket  for  the  trade  of  the  numerous  population  of  the  contigu¬ 
ous  country.  Notwithstanding  the  elevation,  and  apparent 
healthiness  of  the  city,  it  has  often  been  visited  by  the  yellow 
fever.  It  is  owing  to  this  circumstance,  that  the  population 
does  not  increase  so  fast  as  might  be  expected  from  its  eli¬ 
gible  position.  It  is,  at  present,  supposed  to  contain  5000  in¬ 
habitants.  It  is  300  miles  above  New  Orleans. 

ELLIS’S  CLIFFS. 

These  cliffs  have  a  very  peculiar  and  majestic  appearance; 
being  of  sand,  the  rains  are  washing  them  off  into  a  variety 
of  fanciful  shapes,  some  of  them  resembling  towers  and  bat¬ 
tlements.  After  passing  these,  the  traveller  will  see  the  little 
town  of 

FORT  ADAMS, 

Romantically  situated  on  the  side  of  a  beautiful  hill,  with 
a  noble  bluff  just  below  the  village,  called  Loftus’s  Heights. 
Here  are  the  remains  of  an  old  fort,  erected  during  the  admin¬ 
istration  of  John  Adams,  in  honor  of  whom  it  was  named. 

BAYOU  SARA, 

By  moonlight.  A  short  distance  above  this  town  stands  an 
old  dead  tree  scathed  by  the  fire,  where  three  negroes  were 
burnt  alive.  Each  of  them  had  committed  murder :  one  of 
them  murdered  his  mistress  and  her  two  daughters.  After 
passing  Bayou  Sara,  the  traveller  will  see  some  very  beauti¬ 
ful  cliffs,  called  the 

WHITE  CLIFFS, 

On  which  are  situated  the  small  towns  of  Port  Hudson  and 
Port  Hickey,  and  immediately  below  these  is  the  very  pic¬ 
turesque  and  romantic  looking 


21 


PROPHET’S  ISLAND. 

Here  formerly  lived  and  died  Wotongo,  an  Indian  prophet, 
— the  last  of  his  tribe. 

BATON  ROUGE. 

This  is  now  the  capital  of  the  State  of  Louisiana.  This 
place  is  handsomely  situated  on  the  last  bluff  that  is  seen  in 
the  descending  river.  The  site  is  thirty  or  forty  feet  above 
the  highest  overflow  of  the  river.  This  bluff  rises  from  the 
river  by  a  gentle  and  gradual  swell.  The  United  States’  bar¬ 
racks  here  are  built  in  a  fine  style  ;  and  are  supposed  to  be 
among  the  handsomest  and  most  commodious  of  that  kind  of 
works.  From  the  esplanade,  the  prospect  is  delightful,  com¬ 
manding  a  great  extent  of  the  coast,  with  its  handsome 
houses,  and  rich  cultivation  below  ;  and  an  extensive  view  of 
the  back  country  at  the  east.  The  city  is  tolerably  com¬ 
pact,  and  has  a  number  of  nefat  houses.  The  town  itself,  es¬ 
pecially  in  the  months  when  the  greatest  verdure  prevails,  as 
seen  from  a  boat  in  the  river,  rising  with  such  a  fine  swell 
from  the  banks,  and  with  its  singularly  shaped  French  and 
Spanish  houses,  and  its  green  squares,  looks  like  a  finely 
painted  landscape. 

From  Baton  Rouge,  the  river  below  to  New  Orleans,  is 
lined  with  splendid  sugar  plantations,  and  what  is  generally 
termed  the  “  Coast,” — a  strip  of  land  on  either  side  of  the 
river  extending  back  to  the  cypress  swamps,  about  two  miles. 
It  is  the  richest  soil  in  the  world,  and  will  raise  nearly  all  the 
tropical  fruits, — oranges,  figs,  olives,  and  the  like.  This 
coast  is  protected  from  inundations  by  an  embankment  of 
earth  of  six  or  eight  feet  in  height,  called  a  levee.  Behind 
the  levee,  we  see  extensive  sugar  fields,  noble  mansions, 
beautiful  gardens,  large  sugar  houses,  groups  of  negro  quar¬ 
ters,  lofty  churches,  splendid  villas,  presenting,  in  all,  one  of 
the  finest  views  of  country  to  be  met  with  in  the  United 
States.  The  inhabitants  are  chiefly  native  French  or 
Creoles. 


22 


Just  before  arriving  at  New  Orleans,  will  be  seen  a  beau¬ 
tifully  situated  town  in  the  bend  above,  called 

CARROLTON. 

From  this  point  there  is  a  railroad  extending  to  the  centre 
of  New  Orleans.  After  passing  a  left  hand  point,  the  trav¬ 
eller  will  be  off  the  city  of 

LA  FAYETTE, 

This  is  attached  to  New  Orleans,  but  under  a  separate 
corporation.  It  is  where  all  the  flat  boats  land  that  descend 

the  river. 

NEW  ORLEANS. 

This  is  the  great  commercial  emporium  of  the  South,  situ¬ 
ated  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  river,  in  a  bend  so  deep  and 
sinuous,  that  the  sun  rises  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  over 
the  opposite  shore.  It  stands  in  latitude  north,  29  57 ,  and 
13°  9'  west  from  Washington,  and  about  one  thousand  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  river,  and  a  little  more  than  one 
thousand  two  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri. 

Viewed  from  the  harbor  on  a  sunny  day,  no  city  offers  a 
more  striking  panoramic  view.  It  envelopes  the  beholder 
something  in  the  form  of  a  crescent.  An  area  of  many 
acres,  covered  with  all  the  grotesque  variety  of  flat  boats, 
keel  boats,  and  water  crafts  of  every  description,  that  have 
floated  from  all  points  of  the  valley  above,  lines  the  upper 
part  of  the  shore.  Steam  boats  rounding  to,  or  sweeping 
away,  cast  their  long  horizontal  streams  of  smoke  behind 
them. ^  Sloops,  schooners,  brigs  and  ships  occupy  the  wharves, 
arranged  below  each  other  in  the  order  of  their  size,  showing 
a  forest  of  masts.  The  foreign  aspect  of  the  stuccoed  houses 
in  the  city  proper,  the  massive  buildings  of  the  Fauxbourg 
St.  Mary,  the  bustle  and  movement  on  every  side,  all  seen  at 
one  view  in  the  bright  coloring  of  the  brilliant  sun  and  sky 
of  the  climate,  present  a  splendid  spectacle. 


LIFE  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


The  greater  part  of  the  commercial  intercourse  of  the  coun¬ 
try  is  with  New  Orleans,  by  the  river  Mississippi,  in  boats. 
These  are  so  various  in  their  kinds,  and  so  curious  in  their 
construction,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  reduce  them  to  spe¬ 
cific  classes  and  divisions.  No  form  of  water  craft  so  whim¬ 
sical,  no  shape  so  outlandish,  can  well  be  imagined,  but 
what,  on  descending  to  New  Orleans,  it  may  somewhere  be 
seen  lying  to  the  shore,  or  floating  on  the  river.  The  New 
York  canal  is  generating  monstrous  conceptions  of  this  sort; 
and  there  will  soon  be  a  rivalry  between  the  East  and  the 
West,  which  can  create  the  most  ingenious  floating  river 
monsters  of  passage  and  transport. 

But  the  boats  of  passage  and  conveyance,  that  remain  after 
the  invention  of  steam  boats,  and  are  still  important  to  those 
objects,  are  keel  boats,  and  flats.  The  flat  boats  are  called, 
in  the  vernacular  phrase,  ‘  Kentucky  flats,’  or  ‘  broad  horns.’ 
They  are  simply  an  oblong  ark,  with  a  roof  slightly  curved 
from  the  centre  to  shed  rain.  They  are  generally  about  fif¬ 
teen  feet  wide,  and  from,  fifty  to  eighty,  and  sometimes  an 
hundred  feet  in  length.  The  timbers  of  the  bottom  are  mass¬ 
ive  beams,  and  they  are  intended  to  be  of  great  strength  ; 
and  to  carry  a  burden  of  from  two  to  four  hundred  barrels. 
Great  numbers  of  cattle,  hogs  and  horses  are  conveyed  to 
market  in  them.  We  have  seen  family  boats  of  this  descrip¬ 
tion,  fitted  up  for  the  descent  of  families  to  the  lower  country, 


24 


with  a  stove,  comfortable  apartments,  beds,  and  arrangements 
for  commodious  habitancy.  We  see  in  them,  ladies,  servants, 
cattle,  horses,  sheep,  dogs  and  poultry,  all  floating  on  the 
same  bottom;  and  on  the  roof  the  looms,  ploughs,  spinning 
wheels  and  domestic  implements  of  the  family. 

Much  of  the  produce  of  the  upper  country,  even  after  the 
invention  of  steam  boats,  continues  to  descend  to  New  Or¬ 
leans  in  Kentucky  flats.  They  generally  carry  three  hands  ; 
and  perhaps  a  supernumerary  fourth  hand,  a  kind  of  super¬ 
cargo.  Tins  boat,  in  the  form  of  a  parallelogram,  lying  flat 
and  dead  in  the  water,  and  with  square  timbers  below  its 
bottom  planks,  and  carrying  such  a  great  weight,  runs  on  a 
sand  bar  with  a  strong  headway,  and  ploughs  its  timbers  into 
the  sand  ;  and  it  is  of  course  a  work  of  extreme  labor  to  get 
the  boat  afloat  again.  Its  form  and  its  weight  render  it  difficult 
to  give  it  a  direction  with  any  power  of  oars.  Hence,  in  the 
shallow  waters,  it  often  gets  aground.  When  it  has  at  length 
cleared  the  shallow  waters,  and  gained  the  heavy  current  of 
the  Mississippi,  the  landing  such  an  unwieldy  water  craft,  in 
such  a  current,  is  a  matter  of  no  little  difficulty  and  danger. 

All  the  toil,  and  danger,  and  exposure,  and  moving  acci¬ 
dents  of  this  long  and  perilous  voyage,  are  hidden,  however, 
from  the  inhabitants,  who  contemplate  the  boats  floating  by 
their  dwellings  on  beautiful  spring  mornings,  when  the  ver¬ 
dant  forest,  the  mild  and  delicious  temperature  of  the  air,  the 
delightful  azure  of  the  sky  of  this  country,  the  fine  bottom  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  romantic  bluff’  on  the  other,  the  broad 
and  smooth  stream  rolling  calmly  down  the  forest,  and  float¬ 
ing  the  boat  gently  forward,  present  delightful  images  and 
associations  to  the  beholders.  At  this  time,  there  is  no  visible 
danger,  or  call  for  labor.  The  boat  takes  care  of  itself;  and 
little  do  the  beholders  imagine,  how  different  a  scene  may  be 
presented  in  half  an  hour.  Meantime,  one  of  the  hands 
scrapes  a  violin,  and  the  others  dance.  Greeting,  or  rude  de¬ 
fiances,  or  trials  of  wit,  or  proffers  of  love  to  the  girls  on  shore, 
or  saucy  messages,  are  scattered  between  them  and  the  spec¬ 
tators  along  the  banks.  The  boat  glides  on  until  it  disap- 


25 


pears  behind  the  point  of  wood.  At  this  moment,  perhaps, 
the  bugle,  with  which  all  the  boats  are  provided,  strikes  up 
its  note  in  the  distance  over  the  water.  These  scenes,  and 
these  notes,  echoing  from  the  bluffs  of  the  noble  Mississippi, 
have  a  charm  for  the  imagination,  which,  although  heard  a 
thousand  times  repeated,  at  all  hours  and  positions,  present 
the  image  of  a  tempting  and  charming  youthful  existence, 
that  naturally  inspires  a  wish  to  be  a  boatman. 

No  wonder  that  to  the  young,  who  are  reared  in  these  re¬ 
mote  regions,  with  that  restless  curiosity  which  is  fostered 
by  solitude  and  silence,  and  who  witness  scenes  like  this  so 
frequently,  the  severe  and  unremitting  labors  of  agriculture, 
performed  directly  in  the  view  of  such  spectacles,  should  be¬ 
come  tasteless  and  irksome.  No  wonder,  that  the  young, 
along  the  banks  of  the  great  streams,  should  detest  the  labors 
of  the  field,  and  embrace  every  opportunity,  either  openly,  or 
if  minors,  covertly  to  escape,  and  devote  themselves  to  the 
pernicious  employment  of  boating.  In  this  view,  we  may  ac¬ 
count  for  the  detestation  of  the  inhabitants,  along  these  great 
streams,  of  steam  boats,  which  are  continually  diminishing 
the  number  of  all  other  boats  and  boatmen,  and  which  have 
already  withdrawn  probably  ten  thousand  from  that  em¬ 
ployment.  We  have  seen  what  is  the  character  of  this  em¬ 
ployment,  notwithstanding  all  its  seductions.  In  no  employ¬ 
ment  do  the  hands  so  soon  wear  out.  It  is  comparatively 
but  a  few  years,  since  these  waters  have  been  navigated  in 
any  way.  Yet  at  every  bend,  and  every  high  point  of  the 
rivers,  where  you  go  on  shore  for  a  moment,  you  may  expect 
to  see  the  narrow  mound,  and  the  rude  monument,  and  the 
coarse  memorial  carved  on  an  adjoining  tree  by  brother  boat¬ 
men,  to  mark  the  spot  where  an  exhausted  boatman  yielded 
his  breath  and  was  buried. 

A  good  landing  place  on  the  Mississippi,  towards  evening, 
generally  brings  up  the  descending  flat  boats,  where  they  la]r 
by  all  night ;  and  this  is  an  excellent  point  of  observation, 
from  which  to  contemplate  their  aspect,  the  character  of  boat¬ 
ing  and  the  descriptions  and  the  amount  of  produce  from  the 


26 


upper  country.  You  can  here  take  an  imaginary  voyage  to 
the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  or  Missouri ;  to  the  lead  mines  of 
Rock  River,  or  to  Chicago  of  Lake  Michigan;  to  Tippecanoe 
of  the  W abash,  Orleanne  point  of  the  Alleghany,  Brownsville 
of  the  Monongahela,  the  Saline  of  the  Kenhawa,  or  the  moun¬ 
tains,  round  whose  bases  winds  the  Tennessee ;  or,  if  you 
choose,  you  may  take  the  cheap  and  rapid  journey  of  thought 
along  the  courses  of  an  hundred  other  rivers  ;  and  in  the  lapse 
of  a  few  days’  residence  in  the  spring,  at  this  point,  you  may 
see  boats,  which  have  arrived  here  from  all  these  imagined 
places.  The  boisterous  gaiety  of  the  hands,  the  congratula- 
lations  of  acquaintances,  who  have  met  here  from  immense 
distances,  the  moving  picture  of  life  on  board  the  boats,  in 
the  numerous  animals,  large  and  small,  which  they  carry, 
their  different  ladings,  the  evidence  of  the  increasing  agricul¬ 
ture  above,  and,  more  than  all,  the  immense  distances  which 
they  have  already  traversed,  afford  a  copious  fund  of  medi¬ 
tation.  In  one  place  there  are  boats  loaded  with  pine  plank, 
from  the  pine  forests  of  the  south-west  of  New  York.  In 
another  quarter  there  are  numerous  boats  with  the  “  Yankee 
notions  ”  of  Ohio.  In  another  quarter  are  landed  together  the 
boats  of  “  old  Kentucky,”  with  their  whiskey,  hemp,  tobacco, 
bagging  and  bale  rope ;  with  all  the  articles  of  the  produce  of 
their  soil.  From  Tennessee  there  are  the  same  articles,  to¬ 
gether  with  boats  loaded  with  bales  of  cotton.  From  Illinois 
and  Missouri,  cattle,  horses,  and  the  general  produce  of  the 
western  country,  together  with  peltry  and  lead  from  Missouri. 
Some  boats  are  loaded  with  corn  in  bulk  and  in  the  ear. 
Others  with  barrels  of  apples  and  potatoes,  and  great  quanti¬ 
ties  of  dried  apples  and  peaches.  Others  have  loads  of  cider, 
that  has  been  strengthened  by  boiling,  or  freezing.  Other 
boats  are  loaded  with  furniture,  tools,  domestic  and  agricul¬ 
tural  implements  ;  in  short,  the  numerous  products  of  the  in¬ 
genuity,  speculation,  manufacture  and  agriculture  of  the 
whole  upper  country  of  the  west.  They  have  come  fiom  re¬ 
gions,  thousands  of  miles  apart.  They  have  floated  to  a 
common  point  of  union.  The  surface  of  the  boats  covers 


27 


some  acres.  Fowls  are  fluttering  over  the  roofs,  as  invari¬ 
able  appendages.  The  piercing  note  of  the  chanticleer  is 
heard.  The  cattle  low.  The  horses  trample,  as  in  their 
stables.  The  swine  litter  the  cries  of  fighting  with  each 
other.  The  turkeys  gobble.  The  dogs  of  an  hundred  re¬ 
gions  become  acquainted.  The  boatmen  travel  about  from 
boat  to  boat,  make  inquiries  and  acquaintances,  agree  to 
“  lash  boats,”  as  it  is  called,  and  form  alliances  to  yield  mu¬ 
tual  assistance  to  each  other  on  the  way  to  New  Orleans. 
After  an  hour  or  two  passed  in  this  way,  they  spring  on 
shore,  to  “raise  the  wind”  in  the  village.  If  they  tarry  all 
night,  as  is  generally  the  case,  it  is  well  for  the  people  of  the 
town  if  they  do  not  become  riotous  in  the  course  of  the  eve¬ 
ning ;  in  which  case,  strong  measures  are  adopted,  and  the 
proceedings  on  both  sides  are  summary  and  decisive.  With 
the  first  dawn,  all  is  bustle  and  motion  ;  and  amidst  shouts, 
and  trampling  of  cattle,  and  barking  of  dogs,  and  crowing  of 
the  fowls,  the  fleet  is  in  half  an  hour  all  under- weigh  ;  and 
when  the  sun  rises,  nothing  is  seen  but  the  broad  stream  roll¬ 
ing  on  as  before.  These  boats  unite  once  more  at  Natchez 
and  New  Orleans ;  and  although  they  live  on  the  same  river, 
it  is  improbable  that  they  will  ever  meet  again  on  the  earth. 

In  passing  below,  we  often  see  a  number  of  boats  lashed, 
and  floating  together.  In  travelling  over  the  roofs  of  the 
floating  town,  you  have  a  considerable  walk.  These  associ¬ 
ations  have  various  objects.  Boats  so  united,  as  is  well 
known,  float  considerably  faster.  Perhaps  the  object  is  to 
barter,  and  obtain  supplies.  Perhaps  it  is  to  kill  beef  or  pork, 
for  fresh  provisions.  Apples,  cider,  nuts,  dried  fruit,  whis¬ 
key.  peach  brandy,  and  drams  are  retailed ;  and  the  concern 
is,  for  a  while,  one  of  great  merriment  and  good  will.  Un- 
forseen  moral  storms  arise ;  and  the  partnership,  which  began 
in  a  frolic,  ends  in  a  quarrel.  The  aggrieved  discharge  a 
few  mutual  volleys  of  the  compliments  usually  interchanged 
on  such  occasions,  unlash,  and  each  one  manages  his  boat  in 
his  own  way. 

The  order  of  things  in  the  western  country,  naturally  fos- 


ters  a  propensity  for  a  floating  life  on  the  water.  The  inhab¬ 
itants  will  ultimately  become  as  famous  as  the  Chinese,  for 
having  their  habitancy  in  boats.  In  time  of  high  waters  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  we  were  on  board  an  immensely  large 
flat  boat,  on  which  was  “  kept  a  town,”  which  had  figured 
in  the  papers,  as  a  place  that  bade  fair  to  rival  the  ancient 
metropolis  of  the  Delta  of  the  Nile.  The  tavern,  the  retail 
and  dram  shops,  together  with  the  inhabitants,  and  no  small 
number  of  very  merry  customers,  floated  on  the  same  bottom. 
We  have  seen  a  large  tinner’s  establishment  floating  down 
the  Mississippi.  It  was  a  respectable  manufactory  ;  and  the 
articles  were  sold  wholesale  and  retail.  There  were  three 
apartments,  and  a  number  of  hands.  When  they  had  mend¬ 
ed  all  the  tin,  and  vended  all  that  they  could  sell  in  one 
place,  they  floated  on  to  another. 

A  piece  goods  store,  united  with  a  bookstore,  is  no  uncom¬ 
mon  establishment.  We  have  heard  of  a  large  floating  black¬ 
smith’s  establishment ;  and  of  another,  in  which  it  was  con¬ 
templated  to  work  a  trip  hammer.  Besides  the  numerous 
periogues,  or  singular  looking  Spanish  and  French  trading 
retail  boats,  commonly  called  “  chicken  thieves,”  which  scour 
the  rivers  within  an  hundred  leagues  of  New  Orleans,  there 
are  on  all  the  waters  of  the  West,  retail  trading  boats.  They 
are  often  fitted  up  with  no  inconsiderable  ingenuity  and  show. 
The  goods  are  fancifully  arranged  on  shelves.  The  delicate 
hands  of  the  vender  would  bear  a  comparison  with  those  of 
the  spruce  clerk  behind  our  city  counters.  Every  consider¬ 
able  landing  place  on  the  waters  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi 
has,  in  the  spring,  a  number  of  stationary  and  inhabited  boats 
lying  by  the  shores.  They  are  too  often  dram  shops,  and 
resorts  of  all  kinds  of  bad  company.  A  severe  inquiry  ought 
to  be  instituted  at  all  these  points,  respecting  the  inmates  and 
practices  of  these  floating  mansions  of  iniquity. 

There  is  no  portion  of  the  globe,  where  the  invention  of 
steamboats  should  be  so  highly  appreciated,  as  in  the  valley 
of  the  Mississippi.  This  invention  deserves  to  be  estimated 
the  most  memorable  era  of  the  West ;  and  the  name  of  the 


29 


inventor  ought  to  be  handed  down  with  glory  to  the  genera¬ 
tions  to  come.  No  triumph  of  art  over  the  obstacles  of  na¬ 
ture  has  ever  been  so  complete.  But  for  this  invention,  this 
valley  might  have  sustained  a  nation  of  farmers  and  planters ; 
and  the  comforts,  the  arts,  refinements  and  intelligence  of  the 
day  would  have  made  their  way  slowly  from  New  Orleans 
to  the  lakes,  the  sources  of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  Thousands  of  boatmen  would  have  been  slowly 
and  laboriously  warping,  and  rowing,  and  poling,  and  c-ord- 
elling  their  boats,  in  a  three  months’  trip  up  these  mighty 
and  long  streams,  which  are  now  ascended  by  steamboats  in 
ten  days.  It  may  be  safely  asserted,  that  in  many  respects, 
the  improvements  of  fifty  years  without  steamboats,  were 
brought  to  this  country  in  five  years  after  their  invention. 
The  distant  points  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  used  to  be 
separated  by  distances  and  obstacles  of  transit  more  formi¬ 
dable,  in  the  passing,  than  the  Atlantic.  These  points  are 
now  brought  into  juxtaposition.  Distances  on  the  rivers  are 
not  indeed  annihilated ;  but  they  are  diminished  to  about  an 
eighth  of  their  former  extent ;  and  their  difficulties  and  dan¬ 
gers  are  reduced  even  more  than  that.  All  the  advantages 
of  long  rivers,  such  as  variety  of  soil,  climate,  productions, 
remain  divested  of  all  the  disadvantages  of  distance  and  diffi¬ 
culty  of  ascent.  The  day  that  commemorates  this  invention, 
should  be  a  holiday  of  interest,  only  second  to  that  which 
gave  birth  to  the  nation. 

It  is,  perhaps,  necessary  to  have  something  of  the  experi¬ 
ence,  which  we  have  had,  of  the  slowness,  difficulty  and 
danger  of  propelling  boats  against  the  current  of  these  long 
rivers,  fully  to  estimate  the  advantages  of  this  invention. — 
We  have  ascended  the  Mississippi  in  this  way  for  fifty  days 
in  succession.  We  have  had  but  too  much  of  the  same  kind 
of  experience  on  the  other  streams.  We  consider  ten  miles  a 
day  as  good  progress.  It  is  now  refreshing,  and  it  imparts  a 
feeling  of  energy  and  power  to  the  beholder,  to  see  the  large 
and  beautiful  steamboats  scudding  up  the  eddies,  as  though 
on  the  wing.  When  they  have  run  out  the  eddy,  and  strike 


30 


the  current,  it  is  a  still  more  noble  spectacle.  The  foam 
bursts  in  a  sheet  quite  over  the  deck.  The  boat  quivers  for 
a  moment  with  the  concussion  ;  and  then,  as  though  she  had 
collected  energy,  and  vanquished  her  enemy,  she  resumes  her 
stately  march,  and  mounts  against  the  current  five  or  six 
miles  an  hour.  We  have  travelled  ten  days  together  between 
New  Orleans  and  Louisville,  more  than  an  hundred  miles  in 
a  day  against  the  stream.  The  difficulty  of  ascending  used 
to  be  the  only  one  that  was  dreaded  in  the  anticipation  of  a 
voyage  of  this  kind.  This  difficulty  has  now  disappeared, 
and  the  only  one  that  remains,  is  to  furnish  money  for  the 
trip.  Even  the  expense,  considering  the  luxury  of  the  fare 
and  accommodation,  is  more  moderate  than  could  be  expect¬ 
ed.  A  family  in  Pittsburg  wishes  to  make  a  social  visit  to  a 
kindred  family  on  Red  River.  The  trip,  as  matters  now 
stand,  is  but  two  thousand  miles.  Servants,  baggage,  or 
“plunder,”  as  the  phrase  is,  the  family  and  the  family  dog, 
cat  and  parrot,  all  go  together.  In  twelve  days  they  reach 
the  point  proposed.  Even  the  return  is  but  a  short  voyage. 
Surely  we  must  resist  strong  temptations,  if  we  do  not  be¬ 
come  a  social  people.  You  are  invited  to  a  breakfast  at 
seventy  miles  distance.  You  go  on  board  the  passing  steam¬ 
boat,  and  are  transported,  during  the  night,  so  as  to  go  out 
in  the  morning  and  reach  your  appointment.  The  day  will 
probably  come,  when  the  inhabitants  of  the  warm  and  sickly 
regions  of  the  lower  points  of  the  Mississippi  will  take  their 
periodical  migrations  to  the  north,  with  the  geese  and  swans, 
and  with  them  return  to  the  south  in  the  autumn. 

We  have  compared  the  most  beautiful  steamboats  of  the 
Atlantic  waters  with  those  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  we  have 
seen  none,  which,  in  splendor  and  striking  effect  upon  the 
eye,  and  the  luxury  and  comfort  of  accommodation,  surpass 
the  Western  boats.  We  have  been  amused  in  observing  an 
Atlantic  stranger,  who  had  heard  us  described  by  the  phrase, 
“•backwoods  men,”  taking  his  first  survey  of  such  a  steam¬ 
boat.  If  there  be  any  ground  of  complaint,  it  is,  that  so  much 
gorgeousness  offends  good  taste,  and  seems  to  be  in  opposition 


31 


to  that  social  ease  and  comfort,  which  one  would  desire  in 
such  a  place.  Certainly,  there  can  be  no  comparison  between 
the  comfort  of  the  passage  from  Cincinnati  to  New  Orleans  in 
such  a  steamboat,  and  a  voyage  at  sea.  The  barren  and 
boundless  expanse  of  waters  soon  tires  upon  every  eye  but  a 
seaman’s.  And  then  there  are  storms,  and  the  necessity  of 
fastening  the  tables,  and  of  holding  to  something,  to  keep  in 
bed.  There  is  the  insupportable  nausea  of  sea  sickness,  and 
there  is  danger.  Here  you  are  always  near  the  shore,  always 
see  the  green  earth  ;  can  always  eat,  write,  and  study,  un¬ 
disturbed.  You  can  always  obtain  cream,  fowls,  vege¬ 
tables,  fruit,  fresh  meat  and  wild  game,  in  their  season,  from 
the  shore. 

A  stranger  to  this  mode  of  travelling  would  find  it  difficult 
to  describe  his  impressions  upon  descending  the  Mississippi 
for  the  first  time  in  one  of  these  steamboats,  which  we  have 
named.  He  contemplates  the  prodigious  construction,  with 
its  double  tiers  of  cabins,  and  its  separate  establishment  for 
the  ladies,  and  its  commodious  arrangements  for  the  deck 
passengers  and  the  servants.  Over  head,  about  him,  and  be¬ 
low  him,  all  is  life  and  movement.  He  contemplates  the 
splendor  of  the  cabin,  its  beautiful  finishing  of  the  richest 
woods,  its  rich  carpeting,  its  mirrors  and  fine  furniture,  its 
sliding  tables,  its  bar  room,  and  all  its  arrangements  for  the 
accommodation  of  a  hundred  cabin  passengers.  The  fare  is 
sumptuous,  and  every  thing  in  a  style  of  splendor,  order,  and 
quiet,  far  exceeding  most  city  taverns.  You  read,  converse, 
walk,  or  sleep,  as  you  choose.  You  are  not  burdened  by  the 
restraint  of  useless  ceremony.  The  varied  and  verdant 
scenery  shifts  about  you.  The  trees,  the  green  islands,  the 
houses  on  the  shore,  every  thing  has  an  appearance,  as  by 
enchantment,  of  moving  past  you.  The  river  fowl,  with  their 
white  and  extended  lines,  are  wheeling  their  flight  above  you. 
The  sky  is  bright.  The  river  is  dotted  with  boats  above, 
beside,  and  below  you.  You  hear  the  echo  of  their  bugle  re¬ 
verberating  from  the  woods.  Behind  the  wooded  point,  you 
see  the  ascending  column  of  smoke  rising  over  the  trees, 


% 


32 


which  announces  that  another  steamboat  is  approaching  you. 
The  moving  pageant  glides  through  a  narrow  passage,  be¬ 
tween  an  island,  thick  set  with  young  cotton  woods,  so  even, 
so  beautiful  and  regular,  that  they  seem  to  have  been  planted 
for  a  pleasure  ground,  and  the  main  shore.  As  you  shoot 
out  again  into  the  broad  stream,  you  come  in  view  of  a  plan¬ 
tation,  with  all  its  busy  and  cheerful  accompaniments.  At 
other  times,  you  are  sweeping  along  for  many  leagues  to¬ 
gether,  where  either  shore  is  a  boundless  and  pathless  wil¬ 
derness.  A  contrast  is  thus  strongly  forced  upon  the  mind,  of 
the  highest  improvement  and  the  latest  preeminent  invention 
of  art  with  the  most  lonely  aspect  of  a  grand,  but  desolate 
nature, — the  most  striking  and  complete  assemblage  of  splen¬ 
dor  and  comfort,  the  cheerfulness  of  a  floating  hotel,  ydiich 
carries,  perhaps,  hundreds  of  guests,  with  a  wild  and  unin¬ 
habited  forest,  it  may  be  an  hundred  miles  in  width,  the 
abode  only  of  bears,  owls,  and  noxious  animals. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  BOATMEN, 

A  TALE  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


I  embarked  a  few  years  since,  at  Cincinnati,  on  board  of  a 
steamboat — more  with  a  view  of  realizing  the  possibility  of  a 
speedy  return  against  the  current,  than  in  obedience  to  the 
call  of  either  business  or  pleasure. 

At  the  period  at  which  I  have  dated  my  trip,  the  steamboats 
had  made  but  few  voyages.  We  were  generally  skeptics 
as  to  its  practicability.  The  mind  was  not  prepared  for  the 
change  that  was  about  to  take  place  in  the  West.  It  is  now 
consummated ;  and  we  yet  look  back  with  astonishment  at  the 
result. 

The  rudest  inhabitant  of  our  forests  ; — the  man  whose  mind 
is  least  of  all  imbued  with  a  relish  for  the  picturesque — who 
would  gaze  with  vacant  stare  at  the  finest  painting — listen 
with  apathy  to  the  softest  melody,  and  turn  with  indifference 
from  a  mere  display  of  ingenious  mechanism,  is  struck  with 
the  sublime  power  and  self-moving  majesty  of  a  steamboat ; — 
lingers  on  the  shore  where  it  passes — and  follows  its  rapid, 
and  almost  magic  course  with  silent  admiration.  The  steam 
engine  in  five  years  has  enabled  us  to  anticipate  a  state  of 
things,  which,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events,  it  would 
have  required  a  century  to  have  produced.  The  art  of  print¬ 
ing  scarcely  surpassed  it  in  its  beneficial  consequences. 

In  the  old  world,  the  places  of  the  greatest  interest  to  the 
philosophic  traveller  are  rums,  and  monuments,  that  speak 
of  faded  splendor,  and  departed  glory.  The  broken  columns 
of  Tadmor — the  shapeless  ruins  of  Babylon,  are  rich  in  mat- 
5 


34 


ter  for  almost  endless  speculation.  Far  different  is  the  case 
in  the  western  regions  of  America.  The  stranger  views 
here,  with  wonder,  the  rapidity  with  which  cities  spring  up 
in  forests ;  and  with  which  barbarism  retreats  before  the  ap¬ 
proach  of  art  and  civilization.  The  reflection  possessing  the 
most  intense  interest  is — not  what  has  been  the  character  of 
the  country,  but  what  shall  be  her  future  destiny. 

As  we  coasted  along  this  cheerful  scene,  one  reflection 
crossed  my  mind  to  diminish  the  pleasure  it  excited.  This 
was  caused  by  the  sight  of  the  ruins  of  the  once  splendid 
mansion  of  Blennerhassett.  I  had  spent  some  happy  hours 
here,  when  it  was  the  favorite  residence  of  taste  and  hospital¬ 
ity.  I  had  seen  it  when  a  lovely  and  accomplished  woman 
presided — shedding  a  charm  around,  which  made  it  as  invi¬ 
ting,  though  not  so  dangerous,  as  the  island  of  Calypso  ; — 
when  its  liberal  and  polished  owner  made  it  the  resort  of 
every  stranger,  who  had  any  pretensions  to  literature  or 
science.  I  had  beheld  it  again  under  more  inauspicious  cir¬ 
cumstances: — when  its  proprietor,  in  a  moment  of  visionary 
speculation,  had  abandoned  this  earthly  paradise  to  follow  an 
adventurer — himself  the  dupe  of  others.  A  military  banditti 
held  possession,  acting  “  by  authority.”  The  embellish¬ 
ments  of  art  and  taste  disappeared  beneath  the  touch  of  a 
band  of  Vandals,  and  the  beautiful  domain  which  presented 
the  imposing  appearance  of  a  palace,  and  which  had  cost  a 
fortune  in  the  erection,  was  changed  in  one  night,  into  a  scene 
of  devastation  !  The  chimneys  of  the  house  remained  for  some 
years — the  insulated  monument  of  the  folly  of  their  owner, 
and  pointed  out  to  the  stranger  the  place  where  once  stood 
the  temple  of  hospitality.  Drift  wood  covered  the  pleasure 
grounds;  and  the  massive,  cut  stone,  that  formed  the  columns 
of  the  gateway,  were  scattered  more  widely  than  the  frag¬ 
ments  of  the  Egyptian  Memnon. 

When  we  left  St.  Louis,  the  season  was  not  far  advanced 
in  vegetation.  But  as  we  proceeded,  the  change  was  more 
rapid  than  the  difference  of  latitude  justified.  I  had  fre¬ 
quently  observed  this  in  former  voyages :  but  it  never  was  so 


35 


striking  as  on  the  present  occasion.  The  old  mode  of  travel¬ 
ling,  in  the  sluggish  flat  boat,  seemed  to  give  time  for  the 
change  of  season ;  but  now  a  few  hours  carried  us  into  a  dif¬ 
ferent  climate.  We  met  spring  with  all  her  laughing  train 
of  flowers  and  verdure,  rapidly  advancing  from  the  south. 
The  buck-eye,  cotton-wood  and  maple,  had  already  assumed, 
in  this  region,  the  rich  livery  of  summer.  The  thousand  va¬ 
rieties  of  the  floral  kingdom  spread  a  gay  carpet  over  the 
luxuriant  bottoms  on  each  side  of  the  river.  The  thick  woods 
resounded  with  the  notes  of  the  feathered  tribe — each  striving 
to  out-do  his  neighbor  in  noise,  if  not  in  melody.  We  had 
not  yet  reached  the  region  of  paroquets;  but  the  clear 
toned  whistle  of  the  cardinal  was  heard  in  every  bush ;  and 
the  cat-bird  was  endeavoring,  with  its  usual  zeal,  to  rival  the 
powers  of  the  more  gifted  mocking-bird. 

A  few  hours  brought  us  to  one  of  those  stopping  points, 
known  by  the  name  of  “wooding  places.”  The  boat,  obedi¬ 
ent  to  the  wheel  of  the  pilot,  made  a  graceful  sweep  towards 
the  island  above  the  chute,  and  rounding  to,  approached  the 
wood  pile.  As  the  boat  drew  near  the  shore,  the  escape  steam 
reverberated  through  the  forest  and  hills,  like  the  chafed  bel¬ 
lowing  of  the  caged  tiger.  The  root  of  a  tree,  concealed  be¬ 
neath  the  water,  prevented  the  boat  from  getting  sufficiently 
near  the  bank,  and  it  became  necessary  to  use  the  paddles  to 
take  a  different  position. 

“Back  out;  Mannee !  and  try  it  again!”  exclaimed  a 
voice  from  the  shore.  “Throw  your  pole  wide — and  brace 
off — or  you’ll  run  against  a  snag  !  ” 

This  was  a  kind  of  language  long  familiar  to  us  on  the 
Ohio.  It  was  a  sample  of  the  slang  of  the  keel-boatmen. 

The  speaker  was  immediately  cheered  by  a  dozen  voices 
from  the  deck ;  and  I  recognised  in  him  the  person  of  an  old 
acquaintance,  familiarly  known  to  me  from  my  boyhood. 
He  was  leaning  carelessly  against  a  large  beech  ;  and  as  his 
left  arm  negligently  pressed  a  rifle  to  his  side,  presented  a 
figure,  that  Salvator  would  have  chosen  from  a  million,  as  a 
model  for  his  wild  and  gloomy  pencil.  His  stature  was  up- 


wards  of  six  feet,  his  proportions  perfectly  symmetrical,  and 
exhibiting  the  evidence  of  Herculean  powers.  To  a  stranger, 
he  would  have  seemed  a  complete  mulatto.  Long  exposure 
to  the  sun  and  weather  on  the  lower  Ohio  and  Mississippi 
had  changed  his  skin;  and  but  for  the  fine  European  cast  of 
his  countenance,  he  might  have  passed  for  the  principal  warrior 
of  some  powerful  tribe.  Although  at  least  fifty  years  of  age, 
his  hair  was  as  black  as  the  wing  of  the  raven.  Next  to  his 
skin  he  wore  a  red  flannel  shirt,  covered  by  a  blue  capot, 
ornamented  with  white  fringe.  On  his  feet  were  moccasins, 
and  a  broad  leathern  belt,  from  which  hung,  suspended  in  a 
sheath,  a  large  knife,  encircled  his  waist. 

As  soon  as  the  steamboat  became  stationary,  the  cabin 
passengers  jumped  on  shore.  On  ascending  the  bank,  the 
figure  I  have  just  described  advanced  to  offer  me  his  hand. 

!<  How  are  you,  Mike?”  said  I. 

“  How  goes  it?”  replied  the  boatman — grasping  my  hand 
with  a  squeeze,  that  I  can  compare  to  nothing  but  that  of  a 
blacksmith’s  vice. 

11 1  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mannee !”  continued  he  in  his 
abrupt  manner.  “  I  am  going  to  shoot  at  the  tin  cup  for  a 
quart — off  hand — and  you  must  be  judge.” 

I  understood  Mike  at  once,  and  on  any  other  occasion, 
should  have  remonstrated,  and  prevented  the  daring  trial  of 
skill.  But  I  was  accompanied  by  a  couple  of  English  tour¬ 
ists,  who  had  scarcely  ever  been  beyond  the  sound  of  Bow 
Bells  ;  and  who  were  travelling  post  over  the  United  States 
to  make  up  a  book  of  observations,  on  our  manners  and  cus¬ 
toms.  There  were,  also,  among  the  passengers,  a  few  bloods 
from  Philadelphia  and  Baltimore,  who  could  conceive  of  no¬ 
thing  equal  to  Chesnut  or  Howard  streets;  and  who  ex¬ 
pressed  great  disappointment,  at  not  being  able  to  find  terra¬ 
pins  and  oysters  at  every  village — marvellously  lauding  the 
comforts  of  Rubicum’s.  My  tramontane  pride  was  aroused  ; 
and  I  resolved  to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a 
Western  Lion — for  such  Mike  undoubtedly  was — in  all  his 
glory.  The  philanthropist  may  start,  and  accuse  me  of  want 


37 


of  humanity.  I  deny  the  charge,  and  refer  for  apology  to 
one  of  the  best  understood  principles  of  human  nature. 

Mike,  followed  by  several  of  his  crew,  led  the  way  to  a 
beech  grove,  some  little  distance  from  the  landing.  I  invited 
my  fellow  passengers  to  witness  the  scene.  On  arriving  at 
the  spot,  a  stout  bull-headed  boat-man,  dressed  in  a  hunting 
shirt — but  bare-footed — in  whom  I  recognised  a  younger 
brother  of  Mike,  drew  a  line  with  his  toe;  and  stepping  off 
thirty  yards — turned  round  fronting  his  brother — took  a  tin 
cup,  which  hung  from  his  belt,  and  placed  it  on  his  head. 
Although  I  had  seen  this  feat  performed  before,  I  acknow¬ 
ledge  I  felt  uneasy,  whilst  this  silent  preparation  was  going 
on.  But  I  had  not  much  time  for  reflection;  for  this  second 
Albert  exclaimed — 

“  Blaze  away,  Mike  !  and  let’s  have  the  quart.” 

My  “compagnons  de  voyage,”  as  soon  as  they  recovered 
from  the  first  effect  of  their  astonishment,  exhibited  a  dispo¬ 
sition  to  interfere.  But  Mike,  throwing  back  his  left  leg, 
levelled  the  rifle  at  the  head  of  his  brother.  In  this  horizon¬ 
tal  position  the  weapon  remained  for  some  seconds  as  im¬ 
moveable  as  if  the  arm  which  held  it  was  affected  by  no 
pulsation. 

“  Elevate  your  piece  a  little  lower,  Mike  !  or  you’ll  pay  the 
corn,”  cried  the  imperturbable  brother. 

I  know  not  if  the  advice  was  obeyed  or  not ;  but  the  sharp 
crack  of  the  rifle  immediately  followed,  and  the  cup  flew  off 
thirty  or  forty  yards — rendered  unfit  for  future  service. 
There  was  a  cry  of  admiration  from  the  strangers,  who 
pressed  forward  to  see  if  the  fool-hardy  boatman  was  really 
safe.  He  remained  as  immoveable  as  if  he  had  been  a  figure 
hewn  out  of  stone.  He  had  not  even  winked  when  the  ball 
struck  within  two  inches  of  his  skull. 

“  Mike  has  won!”  I  exclaimed;  and  my  decision  was  the 
signal  which,  according  to  their  rules,  permitted  him  of  the 
target  to  move  from  his  position.  No  more  sensation  was 
exhibited  among  the  boatmen,  than  if  a  common  wager  had 
been  won.  The  bet  being  decided,  they  hurried  back  to  their 


38 


boat,  giving  me  and  my  friends  an  invitation  to  partake  of 
“  the  treat.”  We  declined,  and  took  leave  of  the  thoughtless 
creatures.  In  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  we  observed  their 
“  Keel”  wheeling  into  the  current, — the  gigantic  form  of  Mike 
bestriding  the  large  steering  oar,  and  the  others  arranging 
themselves  in  their  places  in  front  of  the  cabin,  that  extended 
nearly  the  whole  length  of  the  boat,  covering  merchandize 
of  immense  value.  As  they  left  the  shore,  they  gave  the  In¬ 
dian  yell  ;  and  broke  out  into  a  sort  of  unconnected  chorus — 
commencing  with — 

Hard  upon  the  beech  oar  ! — 

She  moves  too  slow  ! — 

All  the  way  to  Shawneetown , 

Long  while  ago.” 

In  a  few  moments  the  boat  “took  the  chute,”  and  disap¬ 
peared  behind  the  point,  with  the  rapidity  of  an  Arabian 
courser. 

Our  travellers  returned  to  the  boat,  lost  in  speculation  on 
the  scene,  and  the  beings  they  had  just  beheld;  and,  no  doubt, 
the  circumstance  has  been  related  a  thousand  times  with  all 
the  necessary  amplifications  of  finished  tourists. 

Mike  Fink  may  be  viewed  as  the  correct  representative  of 
a  class  of  men  now  extinct ;  but  who  once  possessed  as 
marked  a  character  as  that  of  the  Gipsies  of  England,  or 
the  Lazaroni  of  Naples.  The  period  of  their  existence  was 
not  more  than  the  third  of  a  century.  The  character  was 
created  by  the  introduction  of  trade  on  the  Western  waters  ; 
and  ceased  with  the  successful  establishment  of  the  steam¬ 
boat. 

There  is  something  inexplicable  in  the  fact,  that  there 
could  be  men  found,  for  ordinary  wages,  who  would  aban¬ 
don  the  systematic,  but  not  laborious  pursuits  of  agriculture, 
to  follow  a  life,  of  all  others,  except  that  of  a  soldier,  distin¬ 
guished  by  the  greatest  exposure  and  privation.  The  occu¬ 
pation  of  a  boatman  was  more  calculated  to  destroy  the  con¬ 
stitution,  and  to  shorten  life,  than  any  other  business.  In 


39 


ascending  the  river,  it  was  a  continued  series  of  toil,  ren¬ 
dered  more  irksome  by  the  snail-like  rate  at  which  they 
moved.  The  boat  was  propelled  by  poles,  against  which  the 
shoulder  was  placed ;  and  the  whole  strength  and  skill  of  the 
individual  were  applied  in  this  manner.  As  the  boatmen 
moved  along  the  running  board,  with  their  heads  nearly 
touching  the  plank  on  which  they  walked,  the  effect  pro¬ 
duced  on  the  mind  of  an  observer  was  similar  to  that,  on  be¬ 
holding  the  ox,  rocking  before  an  overloaded  cart.  Their 
bodies,  naked  to  their  waist  for  the  purpose  of  moving  with 
greater  ease,  and  of  enjoying  the  breeze  of  the  river,  were 
exposed  to  the  burning  suns  of  summer,  and  to  the  rains  of 
autumn.  After  a  hard  day’s  push,  they  would  take  their 
“fillee,”  or  ration  of  whiskey,  and  having  swallowed  a 
miserable  supper  of  meat  half  burnt,  and  of  bread  half  baked, 
stretch  themselves,  without  covering,  on  the  deck,  and  slum¬ 
ber  till  the  steersman’s  call  invited  them  to  the  morning 
“  fillee.”  Notwithstanding  this,  the  boatman’s  life  had 
charms  as  irresistible  as  those  presented  by  the  splendid  il¬ 
lusions  of  the  stage.  Sons  abandoned  the  comfortable  farms 
of  their  fathers,  and  apprentices  fled  from  the  service  of  their 
masters.  There  was  a  captivation  in  the  idea  of  “going 
down  the  river;”  and  the  youthful  boatman  who  had 
“  pushed  a  keel”  from  New  Orleans,  felt  all  the  pride  of  a 
young  merchant,  after  his  first  voyage  to  an  English  sea 
port.  From  an  exclusive  association  together,  they  had 
formed  a  kind  of  slang  peculiar  to  themselves  ;  and  from  the 
constant  exercise  of  wit,  with  “  the  squatters”  on  shore,  and 
crews  of  other  boats,  they  acquired  a  quickness,  and  smart¬ 
ness  of  vulgar  retort,  that  was  quite  amusing.  The  frequent 
battles  they  were  engaged  in  with  the  boatmen  of  different 
parts  of  the  river,  and  with  the  less  civilized  inhabitants  of 
the  lower  Ohio,  and  Mississippi,  invested  them  with  that  fe¬ 
rocious  reputation,  which  has  made  them  spoken  of  through¬ 
out  Europe. 

On  board  of  the  boats  thus  navigated,  our  merchants  en¬ 
trusted  valuable  cargoes,  without  insurance,  and  with  no 


40 


other  guarantee  than  the  receipt  of  the  steersman,  who  pos¬ 
sessed  no  property  but  his  boat ;  and  the  confidence  so  re¬ 
posed  was  seldom  abused. 

Among  these  men,  Mike  Fink  stood  an  acknowledged  leader 
for  many  years.  Endowed  by  nature  with  those  qualities  of 
intellect  that  give  the  possessor  influence,  he  would  have 
been  a  conspicuous  member  of  any  society  in  which  his  lot 
might  have  been  cast.  An  acute  observer  of  human  nature 
has  said — “  Opportunity  alone  makes  the  hero.  Change  but 
their  situations,  and  Caesar  would  have  been  but  the  best 
wrestler  on  the  green.”  With  a  figure  cast  in  a  mould  that 
added  much  of  the  symmetry  of  an  Apollo  to  the  limbs  of  a 
Hercules,  he  possessed  gigantic  strength  ;  and  accustomed 
from  an  early  period  of  life  to  brave  the  dangers  of  a  frontier 
life,  his  character  was  noted  for  the  most  daring  intrepidity. 
At  the  court  of  Charlemagne,  he  might  have  been  a  Roland  ; 
with  the  Crusaders,  he  would  have  been  the  favorite  of  the 
Knight  of  the  Lion  heart;  and  in  our  revolution,  he  would 
have  ranked  with  the  Morgans  and  Putnams  of  the  day.  He 
was  the  hero  of  a  hundred  fights,  and  the  leader  in  a  thousand 
daring  adventures.  From  Pittsburgh  to  St.  Louis,  and  New 
Orleans,  his  fame  was  established.  Every  farmer  on  the 
shore  kept  on  good  terms  with  Mike ;  otherwise,  there  was 
no  safety  for  his  property.  Wherever  he  was  an  enemy,  like 
his  great  prototype,  Rob  Roy,  he  levied  the  contribution  of 
Black  Mail  for  the  use  of  his  boat.  Often  at  night,  when  his 
tired  companions  slept,  he  would  take  an  excursion  of  five  or 
six  miles,  and  return  before  morning,  rich  in  spoil.  On  the 
Ohio,  he  was  known  among  his  companions  by  the  appella¬ 
tion  of  the  “  Snapping  Turtle ;  ”  and  on  the  Mississippi,  he 
was  called  “  The  Snag.” 

At  the  early  age  of  seventeen,  Mike’s  character  was  dis¬ 
played,  by  enlisting  himself  in  a  corps  of  Scouts — a  body  of 
irregular  rangers,  which  was  employed  on  the  North  Western 
frontiers  of  Pennsylvania,  to  watch  the  Indians,  and  to  give 
notice  of  any  threatened  inroad. 

At  that  time,  Pittsburgh  was  on  the  extreme  verge  of  white 


41 


population,  and  the  spies,  who  were  constantly  employed, 
generally  extended  their  explorations  forty  or  fifty  miles  to 
the  west  of  this  post.  They  went  out,  singly,  lived  as  did 
the  Indian,  and  in  every  respect,  became  perfectly  assimilated 
in  habits,  taste  and  feeling,  with  the  red  men  of  the  desert. 
A  kind  of  border  warfare  was  kept  up,  and  the  scout  thought 
it  as  praiseworthy  to  bring  in  the  scalp  of  a  Shawnee,  as  the 
skin  of  a  panther.  He  would  remain  in  the  woods  for  weeks 
together,  using  parched  corn  for  bread,  and  depending  on  his 
rifle  for  his  meat — and  slept  at  night  in  perfect  comfort,  rolled 
in  his  blanket. 

In  this  corps,  whilst  yet  a  stripling,  Mike  acquired  a  repu¬ 
tation  for  boldness  and  cunning,  far  beyond  his  companions. 
A  thousand  legends  illustrate  the  fearlessness  of  his  character. 
There  was  one,  which  he  told,  himself,  with  much  pride,  and 
which  made  an  indelible  impression  on  my  boyish  memory. 

He  had  been  out  on  the  hills  of  Mahoning,  when,  to  use  his 
own  words,  “  he  saw  signs  of  Indians  being  about.”  He  had 
discovered  the  recent  print  of  the  moccasin  on  the  grass  ;  and 
found  drops  of  the  fresh  blood  of  a  deer  on  the  green  bush. 
He  became  cautious,  skulked  for  some  time  in  the  deepest 
thickets  of  hazle  and  briar,  and,  for  several  days,  did  not  dis¬ 
charge  his  rifle.  He  subsisted  patiently  on  parched  corn  and 
jerk,  which  he  had  dried  on  his  first  coming  into  the  woods. 
He  gave  no  alarm  to  the  settlements,  because  he  discovered 
with  perfect  certainty,  that  the  enemy  consisted  of  a  small 
hunting  party,  who  were  receding  from  the  Alleghany. 

As  he  was  creeping  along  one  morning,  with  the  stealthy 
tread  of  a  cat,  his  eye  fell  upon  a  beautiful  buck,  browsing  on 
the  edge  of  a  barren  spot,  three  hundred  yards  distant.  The 
temptation  was  too  strong  for  the  woodsman,  and  he  resolved 
to  have  a  shot  at  every  hazard.  Reprinting  his  gun,  and 
picking  his  flint,  he  made  his  approaches  in  the  usual 
noiseless  manner.  At  the  moment  he  reached  the  spot, 
from  which  he  meant  to  take  his  aim,  he  observed  a 
large  savage,  intent  upon  the  same  object,  advancing  from  a 
direction  a  little  different  from  his  own.  Mike  shrunk  behind 
6 


4  2 


a  tree,  with  the  quickness  of  thought,  and  keeping  his  eye 
fixed  on  the  hunter,  waited  the  result  with  patience.  In  a 
few  moments  the  Indian  halted  within  fifty  paces,  and  level¬ 
ed  his  piece  at  the  deer.  In  the  meanwhile  Mike  presented 
his  rifle  at  the  body  of  the  savage,  and  at  the  moment  the 
smoke  issued  from  the  gun  of  the  latter,  the  bullet  of  Fink 
passed  through  the  red  man’s  breast.  He  uttered  a  yell,  and 
fell  dead  at  the  same  instant  with  the  deer.  Mike  reloaded 
his  rifle,  and  remained  in  his  covert  for  some  minutes,  to  as¬ 
certain  whether  there  were  more  enemies  at  hand.  He  then 
stepped  up  to  the  prostrate  savage,  and  having  satisfied  him¬ 
self  that  life  was  extinguished,  turned  his  attention  to  the 
buck,  and  took  from  the  carcase  those  pieces  suited  to  the 
process  of  jerking. 

In  the  meantime,  the  country  was  filling  up  with  a  white 
population  ;  and  in  a  few  years  the  red  men,  with  the  excep¬ 
tion  of  a  few  fractions  of  tribes,  gradually  receded  to  the 
Lakes  and  beyond  the  Mississippi.  The  corps  of  Scouts  was 
abolished,  after  having  acquired  habits  which  unfitted  them 
for  the  pursuits  of  civilized  society.  Some  incorporated  them¬ 
selves  with  the  Indians ;  and  others,  from  a  strong  attachment 
to  their  erratic  mode  of  life,  joined  the  boatmen,  then  just  be¬ 
coming  a  distinct  class.  Among  these  was  our  hero,  Mike 
Fink,  whose  talents  were  soon  developed ;  and  for  many 
years  he  was  as  celebrated  on  the  rivers  of  the  West,  as  he 
had  been  in  the  woods. 

I  gave  to  my  fellow  travellers  the  substance  of  the  foregoing 
narrative,  as  we  sat  on  deck  by  moonlight,  and  cut  swiftly 
through  the  magnificent  sheet  of  water.  It  was  one  of  those 
beautiful  nights  which  permitted  every  thing  to  be  seen  with 
sufficient  distinctness  to  avoid  danger,  yet  created  a  certain 
degree  of  illusion,  that  gave  reins  to  the  imagination.  The 
outline  of  the  river  hills  lost  all  its  harshness  ;  and  the  occa¬ 
sional  bark  of  the  house  dog  from  the  shore,  and  the  distant 
scream  of  the  solitary  loon,  gave  increased  effect  to  the  scene. 
It  was  altogether  so  delightful,  that  the  hours  till  morning 
flew  swiftly  by,  whilst  our  travellers  dwelt  with  rapture  on 


43 


the  surrounding  scenery,  which  shifted  every  moment  like  the 
capricious  changes  of  the  kaleidescope — and  listening  to  tales 
of  border  warfare,  as  they  were  brought  to  mind,  by  passing 
the  places  where  they  happened.  The  celebrated  Hunter’s 
Leap,*  and  the  bloody  battle  of  Kanhawa,  were  not  forgotten. 

The  afternoon  of  the  next  day  brought  us  to  the  beautiful 
city  of  Cincinnati,  which,  in  the  course  of  thirty  years,  has 
risen  from  a  village  of  soldiers’  huts  to  a  town, — giving  pro¬ 
mise  of  future  splendor,  equal  to  any  on  the  sea  board. 

Some  years  after  the  period  at  which  I  have  dated  my  visit 
to  Cincinnati,  business  called  me  to  New  Orleans.  On  board 
of  the  steamboat,  on  which  I  had  embarked,  at  Louisville,  1 
recognized,  in  the  person  of  the  pilot,  one  of  those  men  who 
had  formerly  been  a  patroon,  or  keel  boat  captain.  I  entered 
into  conversation  with  him  on  the  subject  of  his  former  asso¬ 
ciates. 

“  They  are  scattered  in  all  directions,”  said  he.  “A  few, 
who  had  capacity,  have  become  pilots  of  steamboats.  Many 
have  joined  the  trading  parties  that  cross  the  Rocky  Moun¬ 
tains  ;  and  a  few  have  settled  down  as  farmers.” 

££  What  has  become,”  I  asked,  “of  my  old  acquaintance, 
Mike  Fink?” 

“  Mike  was  killed  in  a  skrimtnage,”  replied  the  pilot.  “  He 
had  refused  several  good  offers  on  steamboats.  He  said  he 
could  not  bear  the  hissing  of  steam,  and  he  wanted  room  to 
throw  his  pole.  He  went  to  the  Missouri,  and  about  a  year 
since  was  shooting  the  tin  cup,  when  he  had  corned  too  heavy. 
He  elevated  too  low,  and  shot  his  companion  through  the 
head.  A  friend  of  the  deceased,  who  was  present,  suspecting 
foul  play,  shot  Mike  through  the  heart,  before  he  had  time  to 
reload  his  rifle.”  * 

With  Mike  Fink  expired  the  spirit  of  the  Boatmen. 


*  A  man  by  the  name  of  Huling,  was  hunting  on  the  hill  above  Point  Pleasant, 
•when  he  was  discovered  by  a  party  of  Indians.  They  pursued  him  to  a  precipice  of 
more  than  sixty  feet,  over  which  he  sprang  and  escaped.  On  returning  next  morning 
with  some  neighbors,  it  was  discovered  that  he  jumped  over  the  top  of  a  sugar  tree, 
which  grew  from  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 


TESTIMONIA  L  S  . 


The  undersigned  has  been  navigating  the  Mississippi  river  for  thirty  years,  and  am 
as  well  acquainted  with  it,  as  I  am  with  the  deck  of  the  boat  I  command;  and  having 
twice  examined  Mr.  Banvard’s  great  Painting  of  the  Mississippi  river,  take  great  plea¬ 
sure  in  testifying  to  its  truthfulness  and  correctness  to  nature. 

JOHN  SHALCROSS, 

New  Orleans,  Nov.  20,  1846r  Master  of  Steamer  Peytona. 


This  is  to  certify  that  I  have  examined  Mr.  Banvard’s  Painting  of  the  Mississippi 
river,  and  having  been  engaged  for  a  number  of  years  in  the  employ  of  Government, 
raising  snags  and  removing  other  obstructions,  am  well  acquainted  with  the  river,  and 
unhesitatingly  pronounce  Mr.  Banvard’s  Painting  remarkably  correct  and  faithful  to 
nature.  J.  MOREHIiIkD, 

Louisville,  Nov.  8,  1846.  U.  S.  Engineer. 


Kentucky  Historical  Society  Room, l 
Oct.  31,  1846.  $ 

John  Banvard,  Esq., 

Dear  Sir, — Having  enjoyed  much  pleasure  in  company  with  the  majority  of  the 
members  of  this  Society  in  viewing  your  magnificent  Panorama,  1  beg  leave  to  tender 
this  voluntary  testimonial  of  my  gratification.  Having  frequently  travelled  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi  river,  I  am  much  acquainted  with  the  grandeur  and  magnificence  of  the  scen¬ 
ery  which  you  have  portrayed  in  your  stupendous  work  with  a  correctness  I  have 
never  seen  equalled. 

At  the  next  regular  meeting  of  the  Kentucky  Historical  Society,  you  will  be  award¬ 
ed  its  diploma  for  the  fidelity  of  your  Painting. 

Yours  truly, 

TAL.  P.  SHAFNER, 

Sf.c.  Ky.  His.  Soc. 


We,  the  undersigned,  being  officers  of  steamboats  continually  plying  on  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi  river,  have  examined  Air.  Banvard’s  great  Painting,  and  take  great  pleasure  in 
recommending  it  for  its  fidelity  and  truthfulness  to  nature,  and  giving  a  correct  delin¬ 
eation  of  the  scenery  and  peculiar  characteristics  of  this  mighty  river. 


J.  JOINER, 

Captain. 

B.  SMITH, 

Pilot. 

DANIEL  DASHIEL, 

U 

HENRY  E.  LEE, 

U 

C.  S.  CASTLEMAN, 

U 

N.  OSTRANDER, 

(C 

T.  COLEMAN, 

(C 

ALEX.  BADGER, 

a 

JAC  DILLON, 

a 

JOHN  CRAWFORD, 

u 

.SAMUEL  PENNINGTON,  “ 

JAMES  D.  HAMILTON 

tC 

y 

ELI  T.  DUSTIN, 

u 

D.  S.  HALEY, 

U 

ROBERT  BROWN, 

a 

JAMES  O’NEAL, 

<( 

THOMAS  NORTHUP, 

tt 

ELI  VANSICKLE, 

ti 

R.  DE  HART, 

u 

ALLEN  PELL, 

Over  one  hundred  more  names  omitted  for  want  of  room. 

State  of  Kentucky, )  ^ 

City  of  Louisville.  $ 

I,  F.  A.  KAYE,  Mayor  of  the  city  of  Louisville,  do  hereby  certify,  that  I  am  per¬ 
sonally  acquainted  with  nearly  all  of  the  gemlemen  who  have  certified  to  the  correct¬ 
ness  of  the  great  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi  river,  painted  by  Mr.  John  Banvard; 
and  certify  further,  that  they  are  all  practical  navigators  of  the  Mississippi  river,  and 
are  gentlemen  of  veracity,  and  are  entitled  to  full  credit  as  such. 

FRED.  A.  KAYE,  Mayor. 


\ 


IFor  tlie  Star.] 

Banvard’s  Panorama. 

Messrs.  Editors, — I  have  spent  three  eve-  * 
ningsat  the  exhibition  of  this  wonderful  mas- 
, terpiece  of  art,  and  at  each  visit  saw  new  and 
interesting  charms  in  the  life-like  repr^senfa- 
tions  of  “  the  fathejijof  waters.”  It  has  been 
asserted  by  some  foreign  writers  that  “Ameri- 


‘ca  had  no  artists  coi^ 
deur  and  extent  of  1 


lensurate  with  the  gran- 
r  scenery.”  Mr.  Ban- 
vard  has  most  nobly  refuted  this  unjust  and 
unfounded  osserrionfj'innd  his  painting,  as  a'1 
work  of  magnificent  conception  and  artistjc 
skill  and  finish  has  not  its  equal  in  the  world. 
Who  but  a  master  mind  of  the  most  expansive 
and  poetical’ conception  would  have  conceived 
the  idea  of  representing  twelve  hundred  miles 
of  scenery,  in  a  single  painting  ? 

And  who  else  would  have  had  the  patience, 
perseverance  and  skill  to  carry  such  an  idea; 
into  execution?  Mr.  Banvard  has  accomplish¬ 
ed  this  almost  superhuman  work,  and  his  name 
ought  to  be  handed  down  with  glory  to  the 
generations  of  coming  times.  Such  a  marvel- 

4-  #  ,  ‘  ; 

lous  monument  of  ambition,  patience  and  ge¬ 
nius,  is  seldom  the  work  of  a  single  man,  and 
it  is  hardly  possible  to  believe  a  single  mind 
adequate  to  such  an  undertaking.  The  Puno- 
rapia , presents  a  viext  of  the  Mississippi  rivet; 
from  its  coufluence  with  the  Missouri  river 
to  the  city  of  New-  Orleans. 


The  eastern 


bank,  from  New  Orleans  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio,  with  its  numerous  cities,  villages,  plan¬ 
tations  and  wild  and  picturesque  scenery  are 
so  fully  and  truthfully  sketched,  that  specta¬ 
tors  often  imagine  themselves  on  board  of  a 
steamboat  travelling  on  the  long  line  of  waters. 
An  instance  illustrative  of  this  happened  ay 
the  time  of  my  hist  visit  which  was  quite 
amusing.  A  nervous  gentleman'rtr  speaks  on 
my  right  sat  discussing  with  a  fifend  the  won-, 
ders  before  him,  and  after  passing  N,  Orleans, 
Lafayette,  Baton  Rouge,  (we  were  going  up 
stream,)  and  Prophet’s  Iglond,  the  canvass 
glided  into  the  moonlight  scenery,  when  our 
nervous  gentleman  having  become  deeply  ab¬ 
sorbed,  suddenly  called  out  to  his  friend  “  not 
to  ‘  turn  in’  until  they  should  get  up  to  old 
Fort  Adams.5''’  1  , 

From  the  Ohio  to  the  Missouri,  the  western 
bank  of  the  Mississippi  is  sketched,  and  much 
interesting  scenerv  presented.  H.  L.  C. 

-Pkj 


©pinions  of  tl)c  press. 

1 

I  i 

| 

The  painting, — its  wild  beginning,  its  difficult  pro¬ 
gress,  and  final  triumphant  completion,  stands  alone  j 
in  the  annals  of  the  art,  as  a  marvellous  monument  of 
the  patience,  daring  ambition,  and  genius  of  Ameri¬ 
can  character. — Boston  Herald. 


A  masterpiece,  both  in  design  and  execution  ;  it  is 
an  honor  alike  to  the  persevering  artist,  and  the  coun¬ 
try  of  his  birth. — Boston  Post. 

j 

Language  cannot  exaggerate  the  comparative  mer¬ 
its  of  this  great  work  of  art.  It  needs  only  to  be  seen  I 
j  to  satisfy  that  it  cannot  be  fully  appreciated. — Boston 
;  Olive  Branch. 

. 

I  "  ■  Vsifclm  »  J 

It  is  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  one  of  the  most 
|  living,  charming  things,  that  ever  came  from  the  han  Is 
I  of  man. — Boston  Atlas. 


In  magnitude  and  grandeur  this  painting  has  no 

equal  on  the  face  of  the  globe. — Boston  Times. 

. 

This  painting  now  stands  the  greatest  and  proudest 
work  of  art  in  the  world. — Louisville  Courier . 


j 

i 


i 

i 


We  can  only  say  that  too  much  can  not  be  said  in 
praise  of  this  wonderful  picture,  and  all  the  praise  it 
receives  is  justly  deserved. — Louisville  Journal. 

f  .  ’  \  HBB1 

} 


96 


ILLUSTRATED  NEWS, 


MR.  BANYARD. 

The  accompanying  capital  likeness  of  Mr.  Banvard,  the  well  known 
artist,  is  from  a  daguerreotype  by  Plumbier,  of  Paris,  and  repre¬ 
sents  him  as  he  appeared  in  the  Turkish  dress  he  wore  in  the  East, 
while  taking  sketches  for  his  picture  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Holy 
Land.  Mr.  Banvard  is  so  well  known,  his  panoramas  have  been 
seen  by  so  many,  both  in  Europe  and  America,  and  the  principal 
events  in  his  life"  have  been  so  often  published,  that  we  need  say  but 
little  respecting  him  in  this  place.  He  was  born  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  and  has  been  the  architect  of  his  own  fortunes.  Thrown  early 
on  his  own  resources,  he  has,  by  his  genius  and  perseverance,  carved 
his  way  to  good  reputation  and  fortune.  After  exhibiting  his  pano¬ 
rama  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  cities  of  Louisville,  Boston,  and  New 
York,  he  sailed  for  England,  and  exhibited  them  there  and  on  the  conti¬ 
nent,  for  four  years.  Nearly  all  the  European  sovereigns  and 
great  dignitaries,  and  over  five  millions  of  other  persons,  visited  the 
picture  of  the  “  father  of  waters.”  The  journals  of  the  day  were  un¬ 
animous  in  his  praise;  the  press  of  London  declaring,  that  “  by  intro¬ 
ducing  these  instructive  paintings,  he  had  ere  ated  a  taste  for  the  beauti¬ 
ful  among  the  masses,  who  heretofore  cared  little,  comparatively, 
for  such  works ;  and  he  had  advanced  the  cause  of  the  arts  to  a  greater 
degree  than  any  single  individual  since  the  origin  of  painting.”  Mr. 
lianvard’s  physiognomy  shows  energy,  courage,  and  originality. 


I)  OYAL  MISSISSIPPI  PICTURE,  Egyptian  Hall.— BAN 

VARD’S  GREAT  PAINTING  having1  returned  from  Windsor  Castle,  where  it  was 
exhibited  by  command  to  her  Majesty  the  Queen,  Prince  Albert,  and  the  Royal  Family,  is 
NOW  OPEN  to  the  public,  at  the  usual  hours,  at  the  Egyptian  Hull.  Morning,  Half-past 
Two;  Evening,  Half-past  Seven. — Admission:  Lower  Seats,  2s;  Gallery,  Is 


RIG1NAL  GIGANTIC  AMERICAN  PANORAMA 


--•L'v 


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- 

. 

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. 

. 

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imi 


